Untitled

Jul 17, 2006 09:44

I wrote this poem based on my bad experiences early last month. Thank goodness I'm feeling much better now.

--

I am a prisoner
Held by four walls made of mirrors
You can see in, I can’t see out
I am held here against my will

My jailers are long gone
But the jail remains, an accident
So unfortunate, the cruel twist of fate
While I die inside

My torture continues
Automatic, meriless, and all of it
Performed by me; I am the spike
That is driving myself through me.
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