The prison I live in
Has no walls
It is not made of cements or bricks
It doesn’t have a window
But a door, yes
It does have a door/
The prison I live in
Gives no bail whatsoever
It doesn’t offer you lawyers
Or a court
Or judge
What’s worse is
My prison didn’t make me a poet//
It did let me read Faiz and Neruda
It empathized me to pain,
loneliness
But most of all,
Love/
I have heard movements grew out of it
Revolutionaries were made in it
But my prison just taught me
To empathize.
I am sorry if this doesn’t rhyme
I didn’t think it would
I am sorry I didn’t use metaphors
Or similes or allegories or ironies
But trust me
This piece will grow on you
It will make you think;
my piece will glow on you
It would scream and tell you
To
Stand up,
While you can//
My prison roughly weighs 49 kgs
Its about 165 cms tall
We humans call it the Body
The door my prison has
Is called a Heart
People enter through it
But when they leave
I wonder why do they leave the door open//