Image by fulcrumgcw from Pixabay
Today, my mind is my own
It had been hijacked years ago
People and their strange ideas filtered through
Some of which still lodges there
It is hard to know whose idea
pushed my life forward
The spite of youth, like barb wire
The halo worn at the back of my mind
slips once in a while
the sting of memory gets pushed forward
colouring the day
at times I feel like a bull with a ring in my nose
I feel the tug, to walk this way, that way
Are we ever truly who we are meant to be?
Ourselves?
©AnitaDawes2024
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