Books are food for the mind. Poetry is food for the soul.

Prison.

Gates guarded.

Save me.

Help me escape.

Prison.

Resembling life.

 

Life bars me from freedom.

Dank skies are my cell ceiling.

I search for a hole in the bars.

Nonexistent.

 

I see you before me,

coming to talk sense into me.

I ignore you.

I have already made my choice.

 

You hide your face.

Try to shrink away.

But life, like prison,

always finds you.

There is no escape.