Remembering

Feels like I've been here so long.
So I strain to think back,
to when things weren't so wrong.

But all I see is my hands 
cuffed in a sweatbox. 
So I strive even harder,
trying to forget about locks. 

No! I'm in a cold court cell
and like a scared snail,
I retreat alone into my shell.

Still thinking. endeavouring to remember. 
All I can see is a man in a wig,
dictating my future, how I am going to live.

'Stand up! Sit down!'
Fixed on thinking 
It's causing me to frown.

And then, I remember!
the girls! the beach! the sun!
back in the days when it was fun.

Attempting to stay in this memory,
until this time has past.
Getting there, can't come too fast. 

Published by Smith Shine Poetry

I am my poetry, my poetry is me. I pray what I believe. I believe what I pray.

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