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