A Plea
Whittle me this
Stick I toss
Across the thick
Of fields
Plains in my mind
Vast and wide
No ending near
As I can see
Where the thoughts
Run free
Like deer
Stags I hunt
Come close
To me
I can almost
Touch
If I reach out
And just grab
But I can’t
Hold on
To them
I’ve lost
The reigns
They’re
Out
Of my hands,
I sit back jumbled
Mess
A jigsaw
With no edges
I’m a stones
Throw away
From insanity
But this
Is not
A plea…
Copyright © Nestor David Armas | Year Posted 2012
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