Poetry: Walls

Walls and Wings

When the walls press me in, cold stone, slimy and grainy
I look for the window that opens when prison doors close
Metal bolted tightly, oppression ripe in the air
Little holes for air, aligned metal cylinder by metal cylinder
I look out the door and see little hope arising
A Lilly in the corner opening slowly, white, soft, and curled
Beautiful, lonely, the more you try to understand beauty
The more you see it’s fleeting, a lily in the corner, little light it’s dying
No little window will shine on it’s glory the cryptic darkness covers it
And the beautiful wilts, wanes, warped – a brown crusted mess
Sitting in the corner, nothing pretty here the pretty has altered
And the length of light, peering above the window sill fades
All were left with s darkness, and the dusk sets in quickly
Purple bruises in the sky, that I can see scarcely
Change to a deep black dullness, no stars shine in the prisoner’s sky

Bracelets of steel cold and unforgiving, little wrists will still not fit
Through these round holes, that cut, and divide
Hand from praying hand at the 4 am hour
I do not understand or know how long I can take this
To not want the fate of my mother, is that too much to ask
To be disappointed, un- understood, used, until I’m broken
To always be alone right next to another person
To always write these words sad, and full of loathing
Guns in the night, shoot me first
These shackles are no golden bracelets, no silver charms adorn them
You can’t buy this jewelry at Pandora, steel is only made at the factories old, oppressive, only manufactured never crafted in grace and finery, with fineness and laughter tingling
Every time you shake them
What do you do when charms no longer charm, and brightness turns into a black hole

I think you run, slipping through the window
You don’t look back though your feet hurt to run on rocks and sand, and weep blood to be free
I think you go, no matter, before you are trapped and chained to walls of slimy stone
You turn and go before those eyes see you, those eyes you thought saw you
Don’t see at all and only have memories of days gone by, you go because to be alone with that
Is to alone, the stone angel trapped in the fragility of life, wasting her days
Growing bitter and aged, never forgiving, the young they see light
The light watches over, a cold moon rises, refreshes, results in absolution
A crime has been committed, but sometimes laws must be broken to live in self – forgiveness
This world is not black and white, my feet take off, crouch then sprout talons, and white wings at my back
All of this for freedom, to become a bird, a lesser creature, all to fly in heavens glory
All for that feeling in your chest where you can finally breathe