Author Information
The Prisoner
POEM #3 THE PRISONER
TRAPPED IN A PRISON THAT COMES FROM WITHIN THE DRUG IS MY JAILER THE BARS FORGED OF SIN, WITH FOUNDATIONS OF PLEASURE THE JAIL DID BEGIN AND WITH EACH PASSING DAY I WAS HIGH ONCE AGAIN
I DON’T KNOW THE HOUR THE DAY OR THE YEAR IN WHICH I LOST TRACK OF ALL THAT I ONCE HELD SO DEAR, WHEN ALL MY JOY TURNED TO FEAR
DECEIVED BY THE DEVIL I WAS HIGH AS THE SKY EVERY WORD FROM MY LIPS HAD THE TASTE OF A LIE, OH DEAR GOD LET ME DIE
MY BODY NOW SLOWLY ROTTING AWAY MY BONES AND MY TEETH BEGAN TO DECAY, I COULDN’T LOOK IN THE MIRROR AND NOT TURN AWAY, OH HOW I DREADED EACH COMING DAY, THE ONLY PLACE I WAS WELCOME IF I HAD THE DOUGH TO THE DOPE HOUSE DIRECTLY IS WHERE I WOULD GO
SO THESE LONELY STREETS I ROAM WITHOUT A PLACE TO CALL MY HOME, THE NIGHTS I PASS FREEZING IN A BUSH ALL ALONE, IF I HAD ONLY KNOWN I WOULD HAVE LEFT THOSE DRUGS ALONE
THE YEARS HAVE GONE BY LIKE THE BLINK OF AN EYE, I’M NEAR FIFTY YEARS OLD WITH NO SLICE OF LIFES PIE, ALL THAT’S LEFT IS THE LIE, DEAR GOD LET ME DIE
