There is no prison
here to see,
and yet it lives
inside of me.
Its onyx walls
hold in my thoughts,
my fears,
but it can never
hold my soul.
The keys glow before me,
the only light I see,
and the prison threatens to take me,
take me far away from...
from what?
From who?
Is this really a prison?
Or just a device
of my mind?
Comments
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yes
percption is the key .... great write small packages and dynamite comes to mind loved it
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