deepundergroundpoetry.com

My Body is A Prison.

My body is a prison.  
Pale, blemished wallpaper.  
Muscle insulating cold.  
Bones trapping
The assembly
Of organs.  
 
My body is a prison.  
My heart pounding  
For release.  
Lungs expanding  
To break free
Yet, they are too weak.  
 
My body is a prison.  
My soul looming  
Within.  
A self sustaining  
Corridor with  
Windows exploiting  
Corruption.  
 
My body is a prison.  
The echos  
Told me so.  
The irony is  
The only rule:  
I cannot free myself.
Written by Isgyppie_ (L.C. McQuillen)
Published | Edited 24th Nov 2018
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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