I am looking around my wonderland;

I am thinking, I will never

be safe again.

I am wondering about the food here

and the water

and how warm my bed will be, if

I have a bed at all.

Even the birds are different, they

sing different songs and

drop unfamiliar feathers.

I am thinking, tomorrow, next week,

this will all be familiar.

I just have to wait.

I have no choice.

by Cher Bibler