The Survivor
Within is where I swim
though fastened to a rope,
a chord of confidence,
that lets me kick and roll,
express my buoyant self
a tethered astronaut
though every day I’m squeezed
more fit for my transport.
I head the tight canal;
my lungs are braced to breathe;
the string is cut; I wail,
Emergent, aimed to be:
Spared wrongful aspiration
of severed plans for me.
May 15, 2016
Jaws Drop Contest
Copyright © Rita A. Simmonds | Year Posted 2016
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