I'll just start off by saying that I am NOT a poetry person. I don't read it, I don't like it, and most of the time I don't get it.
I wrote this for my writers group. I'm not keen on it, but one of the instructors said that it was pretty good for a first try. I think it's going to be published in the local young peoples magazine.
Let me know what you think.
Finally Free
Pulsating, radiating, emanating heat.
I feel it already, though I am not even close.
I walk forward, my desires encouraging me, pushing me.
Warm sweat slides down my stony face.
One more step. It has begun.
I see, I hear, I smell.
I do not feel.
Smoke rises from the smouldering carpet of coal.
The scorching embers melt my flesh.
Still, I do not feel.
My feet touch solid ground.
Cool ground.
My journey is over.
I’m finally free.
