My Own Prison
Entering prison
as you look into the windows of the cell block
through the sockets of the tiers
the gun men at its temple
the years of abuse carved in the body of this young yet
aged building
signifying who stands there
eyelids, formed bars
that keep it caged in
this dungeon who could barely hold itself
together with webs and the best of wishes
imaginary fences form the space that should never
be violated
signs of aggression
will cause immediate action to be taken
hundreds of personalities doing time
asking the conscience they all share
why haven'tÂ
I
been set free
