the prisoner

at times
i think to myself:
“if only I can melt these locks away
then I could be free -
in love, to play”

but if tears are my only key
then life is surely hell
frozen over
held in time
locked behind
rigidity of doubt
formed within my grander
so-called mind
to suffer a unique blend of anguish
individualized
so none can see

and time
that devilish imp
is never on my side

oh no
its relentless, endless tick
mocks me like a gorilla
in rawhide

and my soul
forever bound
into the pages of the past
lashed
and quartered
on the inside

alone
with nothing
no one else

just me
and me

wondering

what did I do
with that key

and maybe
there never was a lock?


© 2006 sara coslett


Image: Imprisoned,
Ed Freeman

http://www.artbrokering.com/artist/freeman/60045.html