hear my cries listen to the whispers, <br />from this dusty mind, <br /> <br />watch the limits i bare, <br />to cross, <br /> <br />strip the words from once i spoke, <br />to the last vowel, <br /> <br />the sight i seek. <br />is in my reach, <br /> <br />just outside, <br />my control, <br /> <br />but in my heart, <br />the day will come, <br /> <br />when the palm, <br />will touch, <br /> <br />the last post, <br />and the past, <br />is far behind, <br />for the last time<br /><br />Sharron Stephenson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-dusty-sight/
