Sanctuary

When you think of the room,

That inner refuge you retreat to,

When the world becomes too real

The room with which the walls,

Are built of others opinions,

And your secret hopes

As you steal a glance,

Through the cold iron bars,

Of its single window

What is it you see,

That lies beyond the divide

Do you imagine a door,

In this private palace,

Locked so very tight,

Against all the fears,

That possibly reside,

Just outside

On which of its sides,

Lies the bolt

For there is the chance,

This sanctuary of yours,

Is really a prison

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Your words are true.
"This sanctuary of yours,
Is really a prison"
Locked doors and fear. A real prison. Thank you for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[G.A. Grim]

This is one of my personal favorites, thanks for reading.
- George

[Coyote Poetry]

I enjoyed the poem and you are welcome.