literature

People Are Prisons

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KeironTonge's avatar
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Literature Text

He grew complacent in his cell,
Built from the smiles of friends or worse.
In every thought a new disease.
In every touch or taste a curse.

Cynical and misanthropic,
Shaped and sculpted by peoples words,
He sees them now like savages.
Their promises free as flights of birds.

In the dark he tests his bonds
And finds his arms have grown so strong.
He can peel the mortar and the stone
To stay here now would feel so wrong.

Through six feet of dirt, he feels like death,
Touching at the light once more.
A mind that's sold out to revenge.
So many years; he's keeping score.

Make right the wrongs with other wrongs
And make them see the world like me.
Imprison them with smiles and words.
So many faces. Never free.
Oh, I'm very very cynical and very misanthropic. But don't let that put you off.
© 2013 - 2024 KeironTonge
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