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HighwireartPoems
He was in his cell Twenty three hours a day Never was he an animal Yet treated as such The echoes off the walls, bounce The metal doors that clang, bang Endless boredom after All the books are read He paces his eight feet Gray dulls the senses Lack of color, lack of life He saw a bug inside The other day, alive Looking up at him Another form of life, different,almost brand new His voice filled with hope through the Pauses It rained and the summer was hot They were released for the hour Choices that are made in that precious time He went outside where there is only the cement Laid on his back, spread his arms like an eagle, like an offering Letting the rain Fall onto him, just so He could feel Something
0
Feb 1, 2024
Feb 1, 2024 at 9:38 PM UTC
The Twenty Fourth Hour
He was in his cell Twenty three hours a day Never was he an animal Yet treated as such The echoes off the walls, bounce The metal doors that clang, bang Endless boredom after All the books are read He paces his eight feet Gray dulls the senses Lack of color, lack of life He saw a bug inside The other day, alive Looking up at him Another form of life, different,almost brand new His voice filled with hope through the Pauses It rained and the summer was hot They were released for the hour Choices that are made in that precious time He went outside where there is only the cement Laid on his back, spread his arms like an eagle, like an offering Letting the rain Fall onto him, just so He could feel Something
Sharing the experiences between a mother and son. The son is incacerated. Too many non violent people are imprisoned for far too long.
#prison#jail#rain#hope#cage#time#gray#boredom#animal
Highwireart
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Highwireart
65
Feb 1, 2024
Feb 1, 2024 at 9:38 PM UTC
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