The Prisoner

the afternoon
sun shines upon
a row of
iron bars

the temperature
has subsided

heads of unknown
men begin to
appear
like shadows of
mushrooms
upon the dark
mouths of caves

they are some
of the questions
still unanswered
by the
claim that there
is justice
in humanity.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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