And fiddled whisper music on those strings
~
let’s all
get back
to normal
let it
rip
so we can
just
get over it
go back
to work
back
to school
stop talking
about the numbers
they’re only
numbers
what I want
to get over . . .
get beyond
are the weasel words
of politicians
who hold us back . . .
push us
forward . . .
shove us in
with two hands
haul us out
with
shouting
and suggestion
and mandate
and demand
and plea and . . .
one day soon
I’m
going to break
out
one day
I will breathe
the rotten air
and
call it sweet
again
one day
I’ll
take my chances
stop listening
stop
quivering
and trembling
and
being afraid
one day soon
I’ll
take my life
back
again
~
Frank Prem Poetry 
I hear you loud and clear Frank. My one day is quick approaching. Either hermit forever or get on with the living. 🙂
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Reblogged this on OPENED HERE >> https:/BOOKS.ESLARN-NET.DE.
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Amen to that Frank I am quite certain the Lord would not be too cross with me for saying that. You have encapsulated the irony of the power-hungry and the little people well. Oh for the good old days when you could see someone smile. Stay safe
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