IMPRISONED

I remember the days of not being held

When I was free to do as I pleased

Not stuck here inside, alone in the dark

Feeling like I’m being held and squeezed.

But the bars that hold me imprisoned

Are bars that no one can see

The bars that hold me imprisoned

Are in fact my body, it’s me!

Some days it’s the body that stops me

Won’t let me go far at all

Pain in the joints, wobbly legs, weak limbs

I fear I will topple and fall.

 Other days it’s the mind that haunts me

My words just stumble and fail

I lose my way in brain fog

Every thought is a whisper, so frail.

So I retreat inside to my writing

I retreat inside to my book

My character, she is restless

She asks you to come and look.

At how she confronts villains

And overcomes many fears

She is asking me to hurry

And please not to cry many tears!

So yes, real life is painful

And yes, my mind is a bog

But my family and book, they help me

So I WILL make it through the fog.