THE ULTIMATE POETRY COLLECTION 2003
BOOK #11
PRISON
Feels this place is a prison,
The bars of black chrome face me in every direction.
Is this truly my protection?
Or my affliction?
I can see colors,
But I’m in a jail cell.
I can breathe the air,
But I’m stripped and bare -
The scars from the cat o nine tails,
Run like rails down my back.
I don’t feel free.
I feel imprisoned in this place so empty.
July 5, 2003
INSIDE A CELLOPHANE ENCLOSURE
I can’t get this right,
I just can’t breathe;
Cellophane surrounds me,
Plastered on the walls and carpeting my feet.
Do you hear the crunch?
As I tread I feel it tear,
And know I’m suffocating,
In this bubble of stale air.
July 5, 2003
SPOT OF FOCUS
I walked a life,
I walked a lie,
I swam to the bottom,
I touched the sky,
And each fall and fly,
I found you there.
Yes when there was nothing,
And I was lost in suffering,
I always found you near –
A spot of focus to help me see clear.
July 5, 2003
PARALYZED FOR LIFE
You can call,
From a limo or a cab,
But I’ll never pick up your tab.
I’m sick of wondering about disguise,
I’d rather just watch the grass under my feet,
That’s where there never lay any lies.
I’m sure you can see it if you look in my eyes,
I’m paralyzed for life -
A lost cause from too much strife,