This is a poem on the plight of those sweet, lost, direction less depressed souls, that require help and encouragement.
If you know some such person, please try and be patient and kind. They could be living with 'all hope lost' but they aren't hopeless cases. They are people like you and me.
OUT OF 'URN'
In darkness dwelled
"It's your prison own"
she denied "not mine.
lest I could have flown.
"Pitch black and painful
Mindless insane
Save me somebody!"
She thought no one came.
"You don't understand"
She thought no one could
And forever in dark,
"live" she would.
In darkness, dwelled
until one fine day
she moved over the lid
she had found her grace!
Lit up and lively
All alive all anew
She had left her urn
And out she flew!
-Mx
