spy4me
2011-07-22, 19:01
A prisoner in freedom by spy4me.
Suddenly, a face showed up from the unkown, removing that blue image of twenty years’ struggle , no one could recognize him, except the shore where he used to write his poems and staring at the everyday meeting of the sun and the sea.
She, in the meanwhile, was in the last place can a man reach in that small village sharing the darkness with her desperate days and clasping the picture of her son, along time passed she did not see the light or inhale the odour of daisy, her favourite flower. ‘’Mary’’ was convicted of murdering her husband since she was the only suspect , she was on the corner, she could not utter a word. «guilty », pronouncing the verdict was an absolute shock for people who know her, Mary can never do it.
I came directly to the old house and touched its dilapidated walls wondering how would my life be if I still sinking in my sadness, I knew that my life would never thrives even with my uncle Larry in his small farm, the famous Larry who could set himself to be the mayor.
A man like me doesn’t deserve a life like his, a man who’s escaping all the time from some drops of water when he can just wait for the clouds to vanish and continue in his path.
I’m a man never tasted the freedom but read about it, wrote about it and heard a shepherd singing “I’m free with the birds flying”, I’m a prisoner like her but she is better than me when she released, she will know the freedom after she knew the prison, I asked her just to hug me, perhaps I could get wings and fly with birds, Mary called me “peter, my son”, how strange that voice, but it’s real, I’m here and she’s here and no one can take us apart again.
My mother was imprisoned for a crime she didn’t do and I was imprisoned for a reality that I could not cope with.
...............................the end....................................
http://griever.cowblog.fr/images/sadman.jpg
i wish you like it.......reading your replies is my pleasure
Suddenly, a face showed up from the unkown, removing that blue image of twenty years’ struggle , no one could recognize him, except the shore where he used to write his poems and staring at the everyday meeting of the sun and the sea.
She, in the meanwhile, was in the last place can a man reach in that small village sharing the darkness with her desperate days and clasping the picture of her son, along time passed she did not see the light or inhale the odour of daisy, her favourite flower. ‘’Mary’’ was convicted of murdering her husband since she was the only suspect , she was on the corner, she could not utter a word. «guilty », pronouncing the verdict was an absolute shock for people who know her, Mary can never do it.
I came directly to the old house and touched its dilapidated walls wondering how would my life be if I still sinking in my sadness, I knew that my life would never thrives even with my uncle Larry in his small farm, the famous Larry who could set himself to be the mayor.
A man like me doesn’t deserve a life like his, a man who’s escaping all the time from some drops of water when he can just wait for the clouds to vanish and continue in his path.
I’m a man never tasted the freedom but read about it, wrote about it and heard a shepherd singing “I’m free with the birds flying”, I’m a prisoner like her but she is better than me when she released, she will know the freedom after she knew the prison, I asked her just to hug me, perhaps I could get wings and fly with birds, Mary called me “peter, my son”, how strange that voice, but it’s real, I’m here and she’s here and no one can take us apart again.
My mother was imprisoned for a crime she didn’t do and I was imprisoned for a reality that I could not cope with.
...............................the end....................................
http://griever.cowblog.fr/images/sadman.jpg
i wish you like it.......reading your replies is my pleasure