Within this cradle,
I am held in place.
Wrapped around
all sides of me,
never able to do
more than a wiggle
more than a breath.
Higher, then lower;
I am held in place.
Black sheets,
surrounding, encasing
all sides of me.
From neck chocking
to feet restrained,
I am held down —
I am held in place.
For my own good;
for their own pleasure.
I am held in place.
Within this cradle,
I am held down —
in place.
And yet...
I am still free.
Inside the mind
aware by the eyes,
seeing the truth that is
all around, alive.
Unable to be restrained.
Unable to be held down.
Still alive, still free
below these black sheets.
Within this place,
held in place,
inside this cradle
covered edge to edge
in black sheets,
I am held in place,
but the heart and mind,
still free,
make plans for escape
from this place.
YOU ARE READING
Cradle Lined with Black Sheets
PoetryThe poem "Cradle Lined with Black Sheets" was created out of motivation to be shared with others who struggle in a life that is restrictive or challenging to the point of depression. The hope is to convey that while you are wrapped in darkness, bein...
