Poetry - For Life

 

 

 

Prisons are what we build for ourselves.

They are the morning chimes 

of clocks at cold routine times,

the impatience of meaningless messages, 

the frugal gathering of numbers in vaults

that vanish without intimacy.

 

We post sentries round our thoughts

lest we forget our frenzied pace,

our cravings for embroidered lace

and longing

others give

or so we think.

 

Prisons are what should keep the danger in,

away from harmless, trite normality,

the ways of the majority,

that stops only to contemplate suicide.

 

For the criminals are those within

and danger lurks a friend to us who pile the bricks  

                                            and set barbed wire.