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Thoughts of A Prisoner(Wall verses)📜
In this 300-square-foot cell, my mind is in turmoil. My flesh has imprinted itself on the walls and floor. My thoughts grow deeper, and my wishes multiply like the sands of the ocean.
I was more of a prisoner outside this cell than inside it. I changed myself for acceptance, living like a prisoner seeking the favor of the warden. Once worried over meals I could control, now I’m fed scraps, a fraction of the whole.
Looking left, I see men clinging to remnants of home. To my right, a man steps on pictures of home to fight for food. Survival instinct doesn't care about home, culture, or principles.
The only thing that kept me going was a line from my Grandpa's hidden book, though some days all I want is to survive.
I wish I had done more before ending up here. I wish I had shown my hidden talents, taken the lead, and spoken assertively.
There was a woman I admired deeply. I was jealous of the raindrop that touched every layer of her skin because it was closer to her than I was. I was jealous of the sun because whenever she tried to stare at it, her beautiful smile appeared like a rainbow after a soft rainy day. I wish I had been close enough to make her smile before the sun did.
I wish I had appreciated the stars, sun, rain, and wind more. My list of wishes could go on, but the wall I write on has reached its end. I hope the wind carries my words to someone who understands.
Oh!! yeah.. the line I read from my Pa's book was: Qui vivunt, spem habent—Anyone who is among the living has hope, even a live dog is better off than a dead lion.
© Sage
I was more of a prisoner outside this cell than inside it. I changed myself for acceptance, living like a prisoner seeking the favor of the warden. Once worried over meals I could control, now I’m fed scraps, a fraction of the whole.
Looking left, I see men clinging to remnants of home. To my right, a man steps on pictures of home to fight for food. Survival instinct doesn't care about home, culture, or principles.
The only thing that kept me going was a line from my Grandpa's hidden book, though some days all I want is to survive.
I wish I had done more before ending up here. I wish I had shown my hidden talents, taken the lead, and spoken assertively.
There was a woman I admired deeply. I was jealous of the raindrop that touched every layer of her skin because it was closer to her than I was. I was jealous of the sun because whenever she tried to stare at it, her beautiful smile appeared like a rainbow after a soft rainy day. I wish I had been close enough to make her smile before the sun did.
I wish I had appreciated the stars, sun, rain, and wind more. My list of wishes could go on, but the wall I write on has reached its end. I hope the wind carries my words to someone who understands.
Oh!! yeah.. the line I read from my Pa's book was: Qui vivunt, spem habent—Anyone who is among the living has hope, even a live dog is better off than a dead lion.
© Sage
