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No more secrets
No more kooks
No more of his dirty looks.
The lies are over.
The hiding is done.
The horizon beckons.
The wind beneath my
wings lifts.
At last.
We won't grow old together
but at least I will grow.
(Posted to Poetry Pantry 68, 9/25/11 and
Sunday Scribblings #286, Plan B, 9/25/11)
"At last"
ReplyDeleteI can feel it.
Great prose! At least you'll grow though it's sad that you may not have that someone to grow with.
ReplyDeleteSo you will soar and fly.. even without him...
ReplyDeleteUse your freedom wisely ~
time to face the music,
ReplyDeleteand deal life with honesty and love.
love your take.
Ah, very positive message in this poem. "I will grow".
ReplyDeleteNow that is a plan B you can live with.
ReplyDeleteAmen to that ... I can hear your wings lifting off now, leaving behind a windy force.
ReplyDeleteSounds like a solid plan B!! Well said and best of luck!
ReplyDeleteThere may even be a Plan C in the offing that will bring even greater rewards.
ReplyDeletefreedom beckons - love it
ReplyDeleteWhen Plan B involves growth, it can be good.
ReplyDeleteGood one!
ReplyDeleteHere is mine:
unhinged
"...but at least I will grow..."
ReplyDeleteSo true.
Oh my! Excellently written!
ReplyDeletePrepare for take off! :) ♥
ReplyDelete