E. R. Smith, 2018
Watching me sly from places on high was how you wooed me
So wet was I from being your idol; I idolized the feel
Encouraged by your selection of choice friends and family
In an oasis all our own, I allowed you to isolate me
Beguiled by your smile, style, and mystical ways
Making me all about you, strayed from my circle for days
A fist knocked out my haze, and eyes adjusted to the darkness
Dark, decadent, illusion became my circle, tight harness
Years later I lie awake, still planning my escape
Like a prisoner of war with no comrades; red tape
Our children grounds to stay grounded, deflated
Afraid to move forward; to rebuild a spirit incarcerated
Bronx Beyond Borders 
painfully beautiful piece
LikeLiked by 1 person