Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Homes and Prisons

While others were busy
turning their homes
into prisons
My prison turned home
broke into laughs.


While the incarcerated inmates
eye me in disbelief
Intoxicated I
lie in relief.

As air through the cracked walls
of my prison waft
A lone and lean voice
in a sage tone whispers:

A home or a prison
is not a four-walled thing;
your long-lived life
decides its state.

1 comment:

John C Buchanan said...

I like your poems, but by double spacing them you make them very hard to read which is a real shame.