FLEE I am slipping deeper and deeper into this asylum I call it my mind. How do I escape? Long enough to grab a smoke and catch a fresh breath. I promise to return once my time is up. But the sun sets on my optimism and the dusks of reality cascade over me. I am slipping deeper and deeper into this windowless room I call it my misery. © 2014 by Charles Banks, Jr. Writing as Black Angel. Excerpt from Burdens Published by Spilt Ink Poetry
Posted on: Wed, 22 Jan 2014 19:07:52 +0000
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