Without Doors
You yearn
for light
out of reach,
high above you,
without doors,
without windows,
you sigh,
and begin to climb.
About this poem.
What it feels like for many of us fighting depression or anxiety and working to have a “normal” life. Always climbing towards the light, which always seems just out of reach. But we climb anyway.
The picture was taken in a small courtyard in Venice, Italy.
I can relate!
Good poem!