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O'er The Other Side of The Fence
I seek escape from this side of the fence where
Grassy thorns beneath my feet pierce my sole.
Scrambling, ambling, trekking to the freedom
Awaiting on the other side.
I search for pockets in my ascent
Digging trembling fingers inside
its moulded, muddy enclosures, securing each grip
Then clawing my way up until
I grope my way over.
Lest I should fall as my nimble and bruised tendons
fail me and my blood-thorned feet derail me
Let me land with a thud o’er the other side of the fence
Rather than fall on the familiar turf where my body is forever spent
And my mind, broken and bent.
Copyright ©
Marguerite C. Anderson
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