Folded Life

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Poems squeezed life; life squeezed me,

A fragile tension, a silent plea.

Set adrift, I lost my shore,

The world turned colder than I could endure.


In the crucible of compressed years, I was forged,

A soul pressed tight, in pressure’s grip endured.

From that fierce embrace, my shape was carved,

Yet freedom’s breath, I longed to be assured.


Life folded into poems, I folded into myself,

A delicate crease in paper, fragile with dreams.

Unloosed, I wandered-lost on the vast, uncharted shelf,

While the world spun on, harsher than shadowed schemes.


In every fold, a memory; in every turn, an ache,

A slow unraveling beneath time’s heavy weight.

A silent storm within me rages still,

In the vast, cold void where apathy waits.


Oh, to break free from the weight of years,

To climb where hope outshines fears.

Amidst the spinning, I strive to see

A flicker of meaning, a chance to be.


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