Sometimes
Sometimes, or more often, I feel like a bird without wings
I just look outside, from the window,
And crave for liberty, freedom and movement.
I imagine myself being caged by this body of mine,
Caged by daily chores and social and moral do’s and do’s not…
Sometimes, or more often, I feel out of this world
I see things many others do not see
- or just don’t want to acknowledge –
I hear sounds and words of violence, threat and death
I watch pictures of humans covered in blood and dirt
Children harmed and armed, famished, happiness banished,
I smell poison in the air and breathe in unwillingly…
Sometimes, or more often, I crave for silence and being alone
Far away from all this
And let myself float in the midst of nature untouched
Far away from all this
At sunset praying, singing hymns, surrounded by peace…
Sometimes, or more often, I like to walk and walk and walk
And meet my friends far away from here
Be part of their life for a short time
Talk, reflect, cry and laugh about problems and good things
Theirs and mine…
Sometimes, or more often, I wish I could return back in time
And be a child protected, happy and shy
I’d like to talk to my mum over and over again
Write the words I never said to her in bold…
Sometimes, or more often, I find myself staring
At my young son and daughter
Watch them play and smile and run and have fun
I find myself listing the many things I was blessed with…
Sometimes, or more often, I tell myself
Life is so short and when you look back
You note that you pressed the fast forward button
And never lived it in the play mode.
What remains is an album full of beautiful moments
All far away, ticket no return…
Patrick Sammut
