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The Man in the Box

June 17, 2015

Here’s a second older poem for which I have now finished an illustration..


The timeless clock ticks its hopeless taunt
The phantom shadows dance across the wall
I hear the nagging voice of loss
The angels whisper sorrow
The demons scream their bloody cry
Tossing and turning, restless
Searching for hope’s vestige
The path is swept clean

I open my eyes but can not seem to awaken from this dream
The cold hard concrete
The steel
This little box in which I live
I can’t wake up
This is a nightmare
The lie told with repetition my first year in prison.

I’m sorry I caused so much hurt
And loss
I wish I could take it all away,
Erase that fateful day
But it’s too late for the man in the box to make a change

I will always be in debt
For great was the cost
This descent and return to the state
Shuffled through as a boy
Deep in the dark recesses I became a man
It’s so damn hard to smile and feel joy

King Midas had the touch that turned to gold
Why must my hands always destroy

My pen be my emissary
And I ask not for pity or a sympathetic ear
Just someone to listen
To hear
The echo in the emptiness
The whispered shouts
That’s the man in the box


From → Art, BLOG, Poetry

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