we all need
something to believe in..
whether it be an
external entity..
of the makings
of our own..
or just to reach out
and touch someone..
since the days of yorn..
a sense of belonging
and knowing that
your not alone..
if it be for
pleasure..
or simple leisure
of lonelyness
that needs to be
purged..
an aching and
everso reaching
to touch the face
of man..and see
yourself reflecting
off every grain
of sand..
so the prisons
that we make..
are full of
every kind of
heart ache..
of stances and
glances..and
so tell me..
what does it
take..to break
free and be
the man I'm
supposed to be..
for I'm just a
prisoner of my
own design..
forever lost thru
the cracks..
where all the weeds
seem to grow..
and every time
or two..you might've
seen me..in the
darkest hours
just before the sun
comes up..and always
wondered..where'd
he go?..
By Rick Weber
January 17, 2012
copywritten
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