Treasure Island

Dim Jain


The Swell


The Swell is the strain
So much has been the pain
From Then to Now
You Lived How
With the Bars roped High
And you couldn't fly
Whilst you were locked
None popped
Days, Months and Years passed
With strain, drain all clasped
It stuck, made a place
Did not let relaxation replace
With winky brow and thoughtful eyes
Mind bruises and soul cries.

Submitted: Monday, April 22, 2013
Edited: Monday, April 22, 2013
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