Title: Out
by Aimee | in writing, poetry
Out, out,
Let me out,
Please,
Walls,
Doors,
Floors..
No windows,
No spicy aromas of adventure,
Nor the pure taste of freedom...
Questions I can't answer,
Places I want to be,
Unachievable.
And so I plough,
I sow,
I count,
Until the day that I may reap,
The harvests of my patience.
Fire,
Water,
Earth,
Air,
Each a deliciously,
Bold being.
I want it,
I'm going,
Reaching,
To find it.
When they let me out.
A mental institution
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