feelings

Taking Off

My mood is bottled up inside

I would that it be owl in flight

Or ship that speeds across the sea

Not anchor stuck inside of me

A weight that keeps me here aground

With few sweet chances to abound

The television stares at me

And seems to mock my stuck esprit

The phone is silent as a tomb

The flowers here refuse to bloom

They’re brown and wilted, so forlorn

Like anger from a heart that’s torn

Like bright balloons adrift in sky

Someday my joy will float that high