with a floor, ceiling, and window;
and, when the door is opened,
access do I have to the rest of my
world that lies within the confines
of my narrow mental hallways;
of anguish and abandonment,
that, at my leisure I have conjured
up like one might cook a stew
over the open flame of one's
imagination that tastes horrible
once it has stopped cooking, as
thought it were never meant to
be eaten by anyone in particular;
light enters of the darkness of
the crime it has sworn to protect,
and I begin to vanish in the same
mist that brought me here many
years ago when but a lad of youth,
with an innocence about him
that everyone failed to recognize,
so, imprisoned I was in this home
like animals in a cage, and was
fed all the latest gossip on politics
that my tender mind could eat,
and to this day, no one has ever
known the difference nor have
they cared about the truth of it.
2017
No comments:
Post a Comment