The Prisoner

By Bren27

Thu, 21 Feb 2013
  • 581 reads
2 comments
 

Once, I saw a prisoner, longing to be free,
Dying, suffocating, from self-inflicted apathy.
Freedom’s voice called faintly, but died and called no longer,
For the prisoner was the gaoler, and the gaoler was the stronger.

But Freedom was persistent, and wouldn’t be ignored.
The prisoner rose again in hope, and moved towards the door.
Stretching out a timid hand, she was surprised to find
No resistance to the push. The lock was in her mind.

She stepped into another world, free of silent screams,
A world that up to then had just, existed in her dreams.
On backward glance to say goodbye, to her one-time cell,
She saw routine and comfort, a life she knew so well.

And though it ofttimes smothered her, it also offered shelter,
A refuge in those moments, that harsher times had dealt her.
Visions of her children, her friendships, loves and smiles,
Also came and lingered for a while.

Did she really want to leave that life; leave it all behind?
Step into the void completely blind?
And so she moves between the two - as her story ends,
The prisoner and the gaoler, are now the best of friends.

Certificate 15
Poem
BDA Poems
Spiritual

Comments

Submitted by Denzella on
Hello Bren, Thought it was time to pop over and see what's cooking. Once again I really enjoyed reading this. I thought the relationship between prisoner and gaoler was clever. Moya
 

Submitted by Bren27 on
Hi Moya, There is a long story that goes with this, In precis, it is about a friend I have known since we were 17. She has played it safe and conventional all of her life but then poured her heart out to me once, just the once, at a wedding we attended together. In thinking about her frankness that day about the choices she had made, I realised that she was the one keeping herself in her box. I imagine this is a story to which many can relate. Life is pretty busy just at the moment. Not writing for now although inspiration arises daily. Where does the time go?