Red Balloon

I wish I were a balloon,

Red with trailing tie,

Drifting in a summer’s breeze

In a clear blue sky.


I wish I could just let go

And float, free and clear

Watch the earth far below.

Empty, free from fear.


I wish I could create a space

That was quiet and still

Where I could sit a while without the pain

Caused by death’s near chill


But I am not a balloon, not free to fly

I am grounded here with you

Watching while you suffer and die

And there is nothing I can do.

Published by

Sharlene Zeederberg

Passionately opinionated about pretty much everything. I am fascinated by the power of creativity, challenging assumptions, exploring and learning, self-actualisation, family and travel.

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