FENCES
I have escaped from a Mental Institution near where I live in Bath, over ten times. Eventually they closed the seclusion unit down and I like to think it was in part because of its lack of security as illustrated by my escaping up the cherry tree, onto the fence and over the roof. Which brings this poem to mind.
FENCES
I cross the gap with ease
between my knees I carry my piece
of cake.
It shouldn’t look like this
I hold true but it starts
to melt
this ardure I felt for your
arms again.
They close to me now
gated and sure
no fence allowed to be
here around my heart
for my escaping
volunteer.
COPYRIGHT BRUCE E SAUNDERS 2017
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