Inspiration, Life, poetry, spirituality, writing

A Weary Soul Rhetoric

weary work, like stocks 

shackling my wandering feet

mind and soul likewise

decrying its slavish sting

yet nobody gives a hoot 

into a cocoon I turn

in a dungeon my soul bound

where darkness and rank reign 

in the cold incarceration

when would I be emancipated — a faint cry from within echos? 

where’s the key for my stocks?

when’s the turnkey coming — for the release I yearn so desperately?

yet not a flicker of light seen

at the end of the tunnel thus far

waiting, waiting and waiting… 

the lot I have to contend with

© Derrick Lim

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