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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2211481
A poem on the emotional and mental prisons we confine ourselves to
As I sit alone in my cell
My mind starts to dwell
On the fact that I’m still here
Trapped in my own hell

Alone and imprisoned
By my own fear
As I continue my sentence
Year after year

My own prison I’ve built
Out of my own depression, guilt and shame
Unwilling to forgive
I have only myself now to blame

The foundation was laid
From my mistakes and bad choices
Bonded and strengthened
By all the angry condemning voices

The walls are built high
Solid and stout
To insure that I never
Climb or break out

Though my crimes were not evil
To be punishable by death
Sometimes I imagine them to be
So I can breathe my last breath

Loneliness and heartache
Are two things I know well
Along with sorrow and pain
That keep me confined to my cell

One day I may be pardoned
And finally set free
From the emotional chains
That are now binding me

When that day comes
Will I be reformed and made whole
Or in this cell will I stay
Another condemned and lost soul
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2211481-Doing-Time