Ramblings of a Trapped Soul

Besmirched life And everything underneath I hear my own voice crying Under the anonymous Heap, Looking beyond the corners Of my kitchen fridge To find a nice snack So as to dine on, Full of energy And works are untold. Lies lurk under laundry baskets And you can't see your clothes Sacrificial lambs climb up Jack's bean stalk And my ramblings are carried away by balloons That I had found the last circus I went to. Letters of the alphabet, as my grandmother learned so Almost a hundred years ago, I flip pages with delight and search among all the unknown meanings To find my self.