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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