So many times I’m limited

In what I do and what I say

Help me prepare my life

This way and that

Then I will be

Cured of restricting

Possibilities

That form a contempt

Of my disease

Allow me

To please let go of

What I bow of

So that I can move into

A future that is

Lost in what I hear

Is comfort and let it share

With it a power

That suffers no one

Only allows us

To prosper

Mend me a quilt

And let it show

My past is but fuel to my fire

And for hire is my next endeavor

Never leaving behind

The one that let’s me sew for fun

In this riddle.


Posted by in Poetry