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Convicted before sentenced to life
Found guilty without a defence in this strife
Painful truth revealed itself during the trial
After a reasoning of lies and denial
Forgotten witnesses testified against me
Unknown of who I was or (some day) could be
Locked up in a world that’s open wide
(but) lacks a place for me to hide
The only one I trust is a shadow in ablaze
A figure of my imagination in my vision of haze
Captured in a world I don’t want to be
I spend my days wondering what defines me
Battle without spectators going on for days
Disturbing thoughts inner conflict is what stays
A lie to myself in potential I am weak
Covered in ugliness with every word I speak
I can’t seem to get out of this embrace
Beaten without anyone touching my face
That’s why I keep running from the world n try to hide:
It’s the mirror that shows me my dark side
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February 7th, 2009 at 9:17 pm
The idea of a prison without bars can lead to irony and paradox, in that the writer is still admitting to imprisonment. We poets can take off with a flare—”imprisoned among the stars!” which, I suppose is the ultimate sense of imprisonment. But seriously, I really like your poem. It is a lyrical form that expresses deep emotion in coming face to face with oneself, as in “the mirror that shows my dark side” I noticed the absence of punctuation except for the parenthesis, and the colon. That is interesting. The question of “what defines me” is at best I think, only answerable by yourself. Perhaps you are a poet in search of truth, running perhaps, but hopefully toward the prize, and may that prize be a sense of purpose larger than the mundane of Byron’s “gaudy day” which denies the higher sense of inner beauty..
Good luck—
art
February 8th, 2009 at 6:20 am
We are all locked up against our will, illegally for crimes we never committed. The more we learn concerning the possibilities of the mind and the generosity and abundance of nature that we live in, the more we become aware of the fact that we have intentionally been cut off from becoming who we were intended to be. Those talents were bestowed to us for a specific reason and stolen from us for an equally specific yet entirely opposite purpose. The stage of this corrupted world indeed seems to be a maximum security facility from which no escape is possible. But the limited views we are capable to develop due to the incessant conditioning can never take away the notion that this world is merely a tiny fragment of a much larger Whole in which powers rule that dwarf the now seemingly invincible forces that exploit and abuse life on earth. This ordeal will come to an end and the consequence for our insane keepers will be infinitely beyond our imagination. I sense that time is impending.