PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I’m under inspection,

Such introspection makes me the judge and the jurer

of my crimes.

I own the cell,

The lock and key,

I guard myself, in my prison,

I restrained my own hands and refused my own plea.



Only with time can I ever be free,

Will I release myself from lock and key?



The lies that I learned while roaming around,

All the voices I heard,

I didn’t hear a sound,

The machines on the street, the thoughts of defeat,

Made it through all these TV days,

Got dragged down, got paid,

Smiled, so tired,

I slept a troubled night.



And now its left for me to decide,

Will I run from this open cell,

Or corner myself inside?