Font Color=darkvioletprisoner Poem by Jane Meyer

I am a prisoner,
But not behind the bars,
For I am on the other side.
Though, I’m still not free,
I’m trapped within the building,
Where my every move is watched.

How I long to be behind those bars,
I wish it more than breath.
The iron door locks from my side,
But alas, I have no key.
It’s contained within the warden’s hand,
So I must do as she commands.

She tells me if I do as she says,
I’ll be admitted to my cell.
But what she asks of me is so exhausting,
My few hours are spent in unconscious rest.

Though good behavior,
Earns me permittence to my cell,
My solitary sanctuary,
Is no substitute for the heaven,
That I crave more than life itself.

It is there,
Waiting for me,
Waiting until I return.
With happiness painted on the walls,
And love spread thick throughout the air.
How much longer will home be waiting?

To that I do not know an answer,
And for now, my few precious hours,
In my cell shall have to suffice.
But as long as these walls contain me,
I will never be at peace because,
I am a prisoner.