Poem By Nancy L Cohen
As we drive through the gate the anxiety takes over.
I am trapped.
Driving down this long road.
Looking at the houses, the trees, the leaves.
Everything feels as if it is starting to close in around me.
I am surrounded by metal gates.
There is no way out!
I am in prison.
We take three turns to our destination.
The streets seem to become smaller.
I wonder does anyone else feel this way?
Does anyone else see the prison we are forced to live in?
As we stop at our destination I see yet another prison.
This one has four walls.
Will I ever be able to break free?