Confined
It’s a feeling of wanting.....needingI need the green pastures
I want to be on the other side of this
As far away as possible.
It’s also a feeling of hunger…..unpleasure
It’s unpleasurable to eat in a charred field
Where there isn’t even enough for all
I hunger for the clovers that grow in fresh patches.
It’s a rush of anger…..mourning
I’m angry I wake up to the turn of turbines & conveyors
And not the sound of rushing water or bird chirps
I mourn for family, fresh air and open ranges
Not for strangers, blackened skies and fences.
I wish to feel warmth on my back
There is no feeling…..like the feeling of confinement.
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