i have been toying with these lines for so long, i've gotten too close to edit them effectively. i record them here, to let them go, until i am able to take a fresh look and rewrite them.


stronghold


i am the warden, and the crook
the crumbling rock that time forsook
the disrepair that seized it all
the vacant stare, the hungry look

i am the fives upon the wall
the guard patrolling in the hall
the tattoos and the angry scars
my spirit's in them all

i am the iron in the bars
the inmate gazing at the stars
the cry for freedom in the night
unsung, not fit for memoirs

the cry for freedom in the night
the tattoos and the angry scars
the disrepair that seized it all
the vacant stare, the hungry look





Poetry by StillHoppin The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 1150 times
Written on 2014-09-11 at 04:41

Tags Prison  Inmate  Freedom 

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Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
Excellent, classic verse, rings true.
2014-09-11