Poetry in Spoken Word by Tracy Kocsis - HTML preview

PLANES

For hours now, the planes flew low

And persistently overhead.

Their loud, incessant humming

Makes me feel uneasy, filled with dread.

I am an outlaw, running fast on foot

No matter how fast my feet carry me

They are not swift enough.

I race, my heart pounds anxiously

The kind of anxiety I don’t care to recall

The kind that overwhelmed me

When I was enslaved by sin.

I wish I would simply vanish into thin air.

Or, perhaps I could manifest my own wings

And escape from here.