identity

I hold my head up high on the rug

Lying on the rug hoping for relief

Just don’t have it in me

Can’t move, think, or blink

Chapped lips

Thirsty for some water

But my bones ache too much

I remain on the rug

Hoping for a jagged reef

And a calming sea

Where my exhausted mind can sink

And where an elixir is in my sip

Parched, wondering what to barter

Not my integrity nor my golden touch

I hold my head up high on the rug

But from here I cannot move

My will has gone for a walk

But my voice will be here when it returns

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