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Updated:  11/12/08
 
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Happiness Takes No Prisoners
Victoria R. Goodale

Falling into the epilogue of sadness,
Rebirth.
I'm shedding the past.
Snake-like.
I'm taking new form.
In slow-motion, the contours of my face begin to morph.
"What is that half-moon grin you're wearing?"
New phenomenon.
Purged from the past: the world is no longer blue.
Yesterday was cloudy.
Every day was cloudy.

Toying with lace curtains,
I peer out dusty windows.
Delicate rays of sun gleam golden amidst grey rain.
Warmth.
Is.
Omnipotent.
Delicacy broadens,
Shape-shifts into fields of white light.
I'm overpowered by the magic blazing around me.

It's a mixture of freedom and relief.
I can breathe.
How does a nightmare become a dream?
I'd been living behind bars.
The fear is released.
My cage disintegrates into nothingness.
Lilies of the valley bloom.
My soul has blossomed.
The petals of my spirit are flowering like the pink rose
Into perfect happiness.
Stripes fade into a swirl of color.

Boundless.
After all,
Happiness takes no prisoners.


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