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“Congestion”
Infused within a crowd,
Suffocating, blending,
Getting lost in the shuffle of the cards,
Becoming an ameba in a world of giants,
Floating in between the massive pillars,
The Olympian marble columns,
Trying to catch merely a glimpse,
Just the passing blur of hope gone by,
Lusting after a time once lived,
A simpler time,
A place where the congestion was not there,
Instead was a feeling of freedom,
Of hope, of beauty,
A place where there was no fighting just to draw a breath,
There were no others,
There was only me,
And it was better then,
There was no fear,
There was no hate,
There was no uneasy feeling creeping out from inside my stomach,
There was just me,
And it was only in that time that I was truly me,
And there may not be room in that world for another.
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