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