Immured

 

I have drawn about me

                A prison.

 

A prison made of walls

                Of pain,

Built of bricks

                Of disappointments.

 

The bars are the tracks

                Of my tears.

 

My prison was built by me,

                And you

 

                                And you

 

                                                And you

 

                                                                And you. . . . .

 

It is I, though,

Who holds the key.

 

But I am inside.

It is another who

Must unlock the door.

 

Ask me.

I will give you

The key.

 

 

 

B. Benjamin                                                                                         

BBP59