Escaping the Prison
a free verse poem
Perhaps,
I am the mud licking the sole of someone’s feet,
Or the side of a leaf facing the ground,
For I can’t see the sky and the rainbows.
As far as I know,
A plumber isn’t going to fix my leaking eyes,
And perhaps,
A carpenter isn’t going to magically appear,
Just to fix the creaking legs and repair the weakening wood of my heart.
With my own imagination,
I’ve pursued the most terrifying tragedies,
And let misfortune become a meal for my hungry psyche.
I’ve existed like a mole sitting quietly under an eye,
Barely growing and never moving.
I’ve touched things that had the potential of killing me,
And I went to sleep without washing my hands.
I’ve lived in a room where the ceiling is too close to my head.
Perhaps,
A pianist lives inside my chest and he only plays at night,
And through the dark I listen,
Listen to the sound of two people kissing.
Through the dark I remember,
Remember madness opening its wings upon my head.
The world is a faint sigh,
And for the lust we share for sadness,
The music and I sleep together.
Perhaps,
Writing with black ink on a blackboard doesn’t help.
And there’s nothing sadder than a man,
Who has never entered a library,
Never opened a book,
Never read a story,
And never flew while being tied to his roots.
A brief note on the poem: This poem talks about a mind that is embedded beneath a layer of its own creation. It is an attempt to identify the nature of the layer, recognizing its roots, and breaking through it, venturing towards the new possibilities that self-healing and life has to offer.
