Proza

I made a marvelous feat
I jumped from the fire into the flying pan
I hid on piece of meat. . .
It was slightly cooler but never satisfying. . .
Temporary. . .
 
The meat kept being scooped up
So I had to jump to e next one
I got used. . .
So I kept jumping even when they were not being scooped up
All this in fear of getting accustomed to the temporal relief
 
I soon grew tired. . .
Tired of the short fix
Couldn’t take it anymore
So I summed up o ma energy and leapt up to the spoon
I leapt up
And clung on to it like a baby does to his mother
 
That is when I knew real freedom
Freedom in her arms
Free like an un-caged sparrow. . .
I am Able to fly again. . .
I am where am supposed to b
Where am happy at. . .
Where I belong. . .
Sigh.  . .
Just hope that she won’t throw m back to the fire