By The Hour
March 30, 2007 by Shirley Allard
I feel the confinement
imposed by these walls
trapped by the whisperings
of fluorescent white halls
the meandering spirit
that thrives when set free
tends to balk when the clock
tells me who I must be.

I’ve annihilated many a time peice for just that cirme
Hey Oz, now that’s a thought! Welcome!