Page: Profile: Poetry
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VxPoem ID: 20103
Posted: February 19th. 2006 12:58:11 AM
by Indred Cold
Age Group: Adult
Saturday, February 18, 2006
MY HOME IS ONE OF HEARTACHE, A PLACE OF STEEL AND STONE,
A BARREN CELL - MY HOME IN HELL , AND HERE I SIT ALONE...
MY HOME IN HELL IS ONE SMALL CELL THAT NO MAN WANTS TO OWN,
FOR HERE I SPEND MY LIFE CONDEMNED, A MAN THE WORLD DISOWNS...
MEN SCREAM AND YELL WITHIN MY HELL, BUT I'M A MAN ALONE, MY TEARS OF PAIN LIKE BITTER RAIN, SPILL DOWN ON NAKED STONE...
I BEAT AND MAUL THE CONCRETE WALLS AND WALK THE CONCRETE FLOORS, I DAMN EACH DAY THE PRISON WAY AND HOPE FOR ONE CHANCE MORE...
EACH BITTER DAY I CURSE AND PRAY TO ANY GOD UNKNOWN, AS I LIE IN BED MY HOPE IS FED BY THOUGHTS OF FREEDOM ONCE AGAIN...
MY EVERY LOSS BECOMES A CROSS
WHICH I MUST BEAR ALONE, FOR NO APPEAL WILL SEVER STEEL OR MOVE A HEART OF STONE...
MY CHAINS OF STEEL CAN NEVER FEEL
THE THINGS THAT I HOLD DEAR, BUT CHAINS OF MAN ARE KINDER THAN
THE MEN WHO KEEP US HERE...
I FEEL THE STING THE BITTER RING OF KEYS IN METAL LOCKS, THE SCRAPE OF FEET UPON CONCRETE AS GUARDS PATROL THE BLOCKS...
IT SOMEHOW SEEMS THAT ALL MY DREAMS MUST WAIT FOR EACH TOMORROW, MY DAYS AND YEARS ARE MADE OF TEARS AND MISERY AND SORROW...
I FEEL THE ACHE AS THOUGH A STAKE, WERE DRIVEN THROUGH MY HEART,
NO GREATER CURSE, NO HUNGER WORSE THAN HOPE WITHIN MY HEART...
EACH LONELY DAWN THE NIGHT SHALL SPAWN, I STAND AND FACE THE WALL, IN BITTERNESS AND LONELINESS, I AWAIT FOR FREEDOMS CALL...
CONVICT KNIVES TAKE HUMAN LIVES, NO JUNGLE HOLDS MORE DANGER, THE YEARS I STAY BOTH NIGHT AND DAY,
EACH MAN REMAINS A STRANGER...
EVERY GATE IS ONE OF HATE
LOVE HAS NO PLACE TO HIDE, FOR EACH LOST FOOL WHO BREAKS THE RULES , THE ROAD TO HELL IS WIDE...
WITHIN THESE WALLS THAT NEVER FALL, MEN CAN ONLY DREAM, OF ONE DAY SOON, THEY CAN TOO, REALIZE WHAT FREEDOM BRINGS... MY HOME IN HELL IS ONE I'D SELL TO ANY PASSERBY, OR GIVE AWAY OR GLADLY PAY SO I COULD BID GOODBY...
WITH EACH FAREWELL I BID IN HELL A DREAM IS LOST IN SORROWS, TO SLEEPLESS NIGHTS, TO GLARING LIGHTS
TO GUNS AND BARS AND CHAINS, TO WALLS OF STONE AND MEN ALONE AND YEARS I CAN'T REGAIN,
AND TO THOSE WHO STEAL THE THINGS I FEEL MY HEART IS FILLED WITH SORROW.................
Author's Notes: all rights reserved.............................................................
Author's Location: orange county, California
More Poems: Indred Cold has posted 38 additional poems- View them?
Author's Profile: To learn more about Indred Cold - Click HERE
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