Kin

Image result for cradle in attic

Sometimes the muse is blindfolded.

 

Gifts are given in a game of

Truth or dare.

 

Determined by the

Flip of a coin.

You stumble into

Life.

 

The day you were born,

Your new family took you home.

The request of your mother;

Afraid to keep you

Her past life calling.

Judging.

 

Alone.

 

Struggling between worlds

You try to

Dream in double-time.

 

 

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Posted on April 13, 2018, in poem, Poetry, thoughts, Uncategorized, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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