I dreamed that I was dead.
There was no dread,
Merely a desire
To cross the barbed wire
And escape something or somewhere,
Perhaps despair.
Pressing my hand against the barbed wire, I felt no pain.
No guards came.
I did not cross, for I new I should find
That which I had left behind
– A man locked in his own mind.
K Morris - Poet 
Reblogged this on Wanda D. Jefferson and commented:
newauthoronline.com
Many thanks for re-blogging. Kevin
Reblogged this on Let me give YOU the Moe-down and commented:
Which is worse?
Thank you for sharing my poem. Kevin