People Talk, Dreams ListenA Poem by Leslie MarieIf I run will you catch me? I'm hiding in the bushes. You don't know I'm here. You don't know what I'm here for. I've seen it all before. We're running for the door.
Why are we always running? It's like we're never free. Except for when we're hiding. Come hide in here with me.
I know where the wild horses run. The freest of all kind. I invisioned it in my mind. I decided I would find this spot. I've gone there several times.
It was only to be temporary. I did not plan to stay. Until I heard a shallow voice, Until I heard it say,
Come dance with me under the tall oak trees, and have a sip of wine. It's been so long since I've had company. It's a funny thing; time. He left much too long ago, and left me to these vines.
I did not want to stay. I had other places to be. But though I could not see it, the voice sounded lonely.
And so I stayed a couple songs, and drank her sweet sweet wine. Until when I woke, around my throat, her strong and lengthy vines.
How could I have been tricked? So easy to deceive. Is it that my sightless trust has been the death of me?
And then again, I wake. But this time I can feel, reality aound me, discerning dream from what is real.
I hold myself captive to be free, and hide in the light. Strange things us people do, when we don't contain much fight.
And that is when I feel it, swelling up inside. The strength to seperate myself, from the places that I hide. © 2012 Leslie MarieAuthor's Note
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