Xavier Keough Poet Narrative

Outside

Cold window pane
Or prison bars
For Susan they are the same
Her imagination runs free
As she is trapped inside
But outside the dream
She can hear echoes of autumn
Leaves chattering
Rustling amidst dancing feet
So many children laughing
Her heart racing
Asking
Why is that not me
Yet Susan feels nothing
Except her breath on the glass
As reality comes between
She struggles to understand
Her only playmate her hands
Rocking her dreams to sleep
Cold window pane
Or steel chair
For Susan they are the same
Her imagination runs free
As her legs are strapped inside
But outside the dream

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