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February 15, 2012
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  >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Experience >> ID #1106479  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
Doing Time
Are we prisoners of our own design?
Rated:
E
by
Avg Rating: (11)
Doing Time

Inside a car in the manic still of rush hour,
Third lane over of six boxed in.
Miles and miles an inch at a time.
Foot by foot, day by day,
Month after month,
I do incremental time incarcerated
Longer by accumulation
Than the guy that robbed the gas station.
© Copyright 2006 NavWorks Press (UN: navworks at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
NavWorks Press has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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