Arrested Mind

Poetry for poets

Sentenced to a paragraph prison cell.
I write what I can't scream and yell.
Mind slightly, unsightly, or could you tell?

Inside poetic prison, I reside in mind jail.
Filled with more letters than mail.
solitary, deep, dark, depression I dwell.
Life is my water, and bread, and the breads stale.
The water kept in a unwashed, rusty pail.

Still It goes on with the speed of a snail.
A time leak untimely.
Blindfold and bind me,
So not to see,
in front of me,
the time-line hasten Hell.
And unfortunately no fortune could be, paid as bail.