Not Dead
Technicolor hind sight
Fighting back the cold night,
My life is filled with-
Thrills and-
The gold of day,
I need to pray,
For the old souls,
Filling the holes,
Of loss and trials,
Feeling the vials,
Of honey oil in,
My olive skin,
Control is shifted,
And I feel gifted,
To be able to achieve,
And learn to believe,
In what I am;
My mother lives in orthodox peace,
Free of life in the land of Greece,
My mind is wrapped,
Reckless and trapped,
Around this-
My dear,
The truth is clear,
I must be elsewhere,
In my head,
While lying in bed,
I’m still not dead.
Copyright © Melissa Ross | Year Posted 2011
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