Now, the Metaphor Flogs Me

...But then, so many hours having passed
In darkness, groping, banging futilely
Upon the stone, concluding that it will
Not yield to me, perhaps to anyone,
And slowly growing certain that
This shaft, in fact, now is my prison,
I've begun to crave the air and light
I left so far above. I have no way
Of getting to them. I rushed in so
Foolishly, so focused on that lovely
Stone that I've forgotten how to leave
It. Truly, I am trapped.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 55 times
Written on 2015-05-16 at 01:57

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