Freedom: By Jeff Belyea


Poison tipped
white lies
Fly Swiftly
Their whispered hissings
Silently decry
My burgundy dark deeds
These arrows drunk
With excessive wine
Still easily find
Their mark
Sharp merciless fangs
Drag me to the ground
Biting wounding truths
Have found me out
Pleading for release
I am left bleeding
Deep blue eons of time
Confine me find me
In a beggar’s grip
But then I am delivered
Before the queen of kindness
Who melts my chains
Lays claim to my sanity
And grants my