Poem -

Crib

Crib

Crib.
Forged
in fire.
Hard
as stone.
Cold
as ice.
Years
in the
making.
Billions.
Limbo.
Hanging,
spinning
in a
void.
Crib.
Where
it
began.
Nowhere
to go.
Growing,
expanding.
InĀ the
crib
still.
Resides.
Toddling.
Failure
to launch.
Infancy.
Still infancy.
Playing
alone,
stuck
In the
crib.
Looking
up.
Looking
out.
Hands
held
high.
Ensconced
in a
tiny space.
Long road
yet
to go.

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Comments

author
Wilford Barker

Another thought provoking piece JP.
ā€˜Thanks for the read Sir.

Reply
author
Marion

Such a stark and desolate feel to.this one John...pinned x

Reply
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