Poetry

Poetry: Bound with Hope

My whole life is bound to the chair,

But I still sing and play a guitar.

I still say hello to people who pass by.

I still face each morning with hope.

My life may be bound to this chair,

But I don’t let the straps hold me back.

Powered by a 12 volt battery,

I throttle my movement with grace and dignity.

My chair has become a part of me like a protective brother, a loyal sister.

All that I own and care about is securely attached.

Even with my life stuck in neutral, head forever cocked, and a catheter bag spilling over,

I still find meaning.

I still have a reason to play.

©️mft

Freelance writer, poet, yogi and photographer from Santa Barbara, California. I write and take pictures about a variety of topics, from my early childhood in Philadelphia, to my years as a family therapist, and finally to my soul-searching years in California. The things that move me may have a humorous or serious content or both. Either way, I hope my poetry, pictures and stories resonate with you.

1 comment on “Poetry: Bound with Hope

  1. What can I say!! Beautiful written

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