The Prison I Live In

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//

8 COMMENTS

  1. Next time I read a blog, Hopefully it won’t fail me as much as this particular one. I mean, I know it was my choice to read, however I genuinely believed you would have something interesting to talk about. All I hear is a bunch of complaining about something that you could possibly fix if you were not too busy looking for attention.

  2. I really love your blog.. Excellent colors & theme. Did you make this site yourself? Please reply back as I’m looking to create my own site and would love to know where you got this from or what the theme is called. Kudos!

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