The clouds are touching the ground
and I am swallowing the fog
The mist tangling in my hair
empty words stuck in my throat
Arms flailing, hands scratching
There are more helpless people in the world than me
but my sympathies are crushed
And the anger grows
fuelled by unfulfilled wants
watching others with bitterness
as they pretend to suffer
I don’t ask for much
yet I feel greedy
I’ve been here before
but I can’t remember the road home
Where’s the outstretched hand to save me?
Before I am engulfed
by those clouds that touch the ground
© www.mypastmademe.com 2011