Take Me to the Lakes

Am I fanciful for wanting to be free,

Moaning with all my heart and laughing with glee?

For desiring to abscond from beast-like human whims,

And following the light even as it dims.

I am not meant to be around these cynical clones,

These monsters forever glued to their cell phones.

 

Take me to the lakes where the poets went to die,

And there, let me dance with my head held high,

For I don’t belong here; don’t ask me why?

Take me to the lakes that are home to exquisite literature,

Those Windermere peaks would be a perfect place to cry,

With my torn wings, let me learn to fly.

 

I could then, at ease, paint dreamscapes on the wall,

And smile at the thought of not being mocked as I fall.

I want to sit aimlessly under blue skies

And swim in the lake that never dries.

 

I want to feel wisteria brush against my wet feet,

And watch falling raindrops as they create a melodious beat.

Sitting under the stars next to those poet’s graves,

It really is all that I yearn, all that my heart craves.

 

Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die,

And let me dance with my head held high.

I don’t belong here, I will reiterate for added measure,

Take me to the lakes that are home to exquisite literature.

Those Windermere peaks would be a perfect place to cry,

With my torn wings, let me learn to fly.

 

Let me scream out loud all these thoughts in my head,

These thoughts that in my poems, you will have read.

Instead of putting on a sequin smile and crying myself to bed,

Let me sit by a waterfall and create a river of tears,

And as I do this, allow me to release all my fears.

 

Take me to lands where herds of deer trance freely,

And there is not a soul to post an Instagram story.

To such a land, grant me the wings to fly,

Aloof from this world, from the rest of humanity.

Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die.