For We Are No Troglodytes
Blinking as we emerge
Into the golden, blinding light
Oh we need the open air
For we are no troglodytes,
Cobalt skies, verdant greens
Room to breathe, a soul set free,
As the scourge diminishes
So grows a sense of joy and glee.
Entry for
BRIAN'S CHOICE J ,any form, any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand.
17/5/2020. Placed 3rd.
Copyright © Gary Smith | Year Posted 2020
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