His eyes dance

As he watches life

Through the cold single glazed glass.

He imagines he is out there

With the squirrels and birds

Roaming free;

Darting this way and that

Before spreading his wings

And soaring high.

Above the building that keeps him imprisoned

Above the body that keeps him imprisoned

And away from his mind that keeps him imprisoned.

 

He lives in a time when he could go

Scrumping in the woods;

When he played ‘poo sticks’

On the river.

When his legs could carry him

For miles and miles…

 

Now the apples have fermented;

The river has dried up –

And his legs no longer work..

 

So he sits and watches life

Through the cold single glazed glass;

Re-living his youth –

And his eyes dance.

 

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