There are places
That protect the heart, even the mind
From stark realities of impoverished life.
When the heart broken and the demented
Choose to find a place of idleness and composure
To rest and reclaim the life one used to know.
And sometimes we stay years inside the places
We inevitably call asylums, to outgrow our entrapments
– What holds us back, even imprison us –
And those sanctuaries called asylums
Are where wounded birds come to rest
To regrow wings.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.