Prison

A prison made out of office walls

Prison (2009)

He sat there helplessly.

He was in for life;

The were no shackles,

Nor prison bars.

It was only his desk,

A glowing screen,

A keyboard

And his cold chair

He often stared;

Looking out of his cell block.

There were no windows though.

He couldn’t see the real world;

He only stared at other inmates

Who seeming slaved

Without end.

He often wondered

What they were thinking?

If they were like him?

If they thought about their youth?

The days when they were free.

Days, when day dreams were not

Only imagined in the daily drudgery

Of their tormented lives.

He could remember when

His day dreams

Weren’t dreams at all

But were life itself,

But now life was hell.

No one deserved this jail.

His life was collateral for bail,

So he grabbed his pen

Slid it across his wrist;

Hoping to wake up

A free man again.

Reviews

[Sugar Plum ♥]

That`s wonderful concept about how writing give us freedom, and this prison could be everywhere and everyone felt it..Its wonderful writing...

[Poeticpiers]

I understand this all too well
Retirement freed me from hell.
I served my time and earned release
and now I'm free to dream in peace
or if I choose to I can write
poetry for my own delight
Nobody tells me what to do
I only do what I want to