Sunday, January 21, 2007

A prisoner in a cell block
of their own creation
weighed down by own walls,
created boundaries
no stepping stones
turned in on self
dank, grey, feelingness
drifting, yet weighted down
in ones own vomit. Going nowhere
Lacking vision, they have no future because they have
no past; only endless present.

Freedom is a state of mind.


Post a Comment

<< Home