Blood stains
the hands and features,
there’s no wringing out,
there’s no getting clean,
there is only one way out
of this
terrible
situation.
I say,
try breaking down the doors,
try every window,
if they hold,
then make your own.
Comfort and confuse,
that’s what Insane will tell you.
Trapped like an animal;
stupid creature.
The way out
is the way
in.
The way out
is the way
in.
How did you
even
get there in the
first place?
How did you
get trapped
in here,
anyway?
Are they
just walls?
No windows,
no doors?
How did you
get in?
Through the ceiling?
Through the floor?
Here’s the fact,
that you can’t find;
you built these walls.
You are trapped
in your mind
and it is
not a prison.
You built it
to hide.
To protect you
from monsters
and some of
your kind.
Now ,
your fortress
is become
your tomb.
Your jailer,
the undertaker,
the traitor,
is you.
Free your mind,
one board at a time.
Add a door,
or learn how to fly.
It’s all you.
It’s all in your mind.
HG – 2018
True words. This life is controlled by the mind itself, if we lose control over it, we are doomed to comfort and confusion. Nice poem. Hope to see more from you. Have hope, write on! 😊
Thank you for reading and for commenting. The things we build to protect us, can become our prisons, if we lost perspective. Much more to come!
You are welcome. 👍