Soft skin and rounded flesh create an inescapable prison

Fear is the guard

Walking the corridors of my mind

Singing songs of roles and expectations

Of confusion and lies

Nearly forty years into an unknown sentence

The terms of which have never been explained

I sit in silent mourning

For that small child with feelings and no words

For the teen who couldn’t see a future

A crack of light seeps in through the bars

Teasing of another world beyond

One of endless possibilities 

Do I plan my escape or bide my time

Which path do I follow?