My Prison

A free slave.

This is my prison.

These lines, the bars,

hold me within.

I see no more stars.

This is my sentence,

my last defense.

These lines confine me,

contain and refine me.

Scared, I have requested:

my thoughts arrested.

No more fear, pain.

In this cage I must remain.

Locked in this cage,

I am yet a freeman;

enslaved by this page,

instead of a demon.

Reviews

[Suhd]

An interesting idea. I like this simple flow of refined thought.

[John the Baptist]

In trying to determine what the poet means by "this cage," I can only conclude that it refers to writing. It seems to provide a kind of haven for him, with "No more fear, pain." The last verse seems almost to say writing keeps him sane. Well, that's still better than lithium. Brief, sparely worded and well rhymed.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i really like this...we are in a way confined by our muse...free yet not...because i think most of us write because we have to....because we are imprisoned within the lines...and yet it is a good captivity...
and poems like this, will get you time served for good poetry...

j.