PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

He's weaving tales that make me want to break out of this prison

He's telling me of intoxicating-ly sweet freedom

It's poison to my ears and mind

And it's letting loose my dreams

In a world so drab and dull and tasteless

His words are rather sweet

He has the charm of one

Who knows of treasure golden

Of happiness forbidden



He's giving me wings

And giving me ideas of flight

He's telling me of a clear blue sky

That isn't dark, but bright

I itch to know this wisdom

To see with an untold sight

To hear the crisp

And sweet trill

Of freedom



I'm willing to fight

The shackles holding me

I'll beat the cage door down

I'll look back one last time

At a prison I never again want to see

And then I'll be free