|
|
Looking Out
Imprisoned by my ego into my captive mind,
Unable to reach out into the world effectively.
My hands are bound and my legs are shackled,
As even my body has been captured into this cell.
A life sentence without parole, sadness overwhelms;
Incarcerated within the confines of my smallish mind
Is my spirit; unable to soar, to delight, to feel passion.
I can only sit here in a fantasy world unable to engage
Reality as it is. I am trapped. I am lonely. I am already dead.
I silently sit looking out the portals of my eyes;
Seeing the children play, seeing lovers love, seeing life lived.
I play the blues on my harmonica to comfort myself,
I sing a sad song of desperation; sitting looking out.
The warden laughs when he hears the songs.
His hatred of freedom is known in my every atom.
Tightening the bolts, adding an extra lock;
I see my death in this prison cell, only able to sit looking out.
15Jul08
Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades
|
|
|
