Beyond Our Prison Walls

our prisons are too many
the penalties imposed upon us
are heavy

everything is passed from one mouth
to another
this prison of tradition
and what we have are just kettles and
ladles
a few spoons and some
crooked forks
some moldy fats of pork
and hardened bread like bricks
upon our walls and rooms

i am tired of those other prisons
handed to us and
well kept by our respect for what
is old

the mind is the prison
and thoughts and imagination are our wings to our well deserved freedom
we do not deserve this
weakness this self imposed defeat
we are not worms
we butterflies and all these fragile wings
shall take us
beyond the tops of molded hills
beyond us
our better selves
our very own proclamations that we are not the children and heirs
of gods
but that we too
are godly creatures with divinity in our hearts
our sacrileges tattooed on our skins and bones

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!