Treasure Island

David Lessard


In a solitary cell, you've
lots of time to meditate;
but first you must accept,
conditions of your fate.

The 'monkey' mind, it interferes,
and ceases to be still,
it races in confusion,
against the shaky will.

Therefore, you're driven crazy,
in disciplinary segregation;
you're a figment of existence,
in your own imagination.

You're not a monk or yogi,
you're something dark and sinister;
befouling yourself behind these walls,
a stinking, forgotten, prisoner.

They jailed you for a petty thing,
on any charge that they could find;
they shut your body in cage,
but they couldn't jail your mind.

No, they couldn't jail your mind,
but're losing it;
as you contemplate the concrete,
in the corner...where you sit.

Submitted: Monday, June 09, 2014

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Topic(s): solitude

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Comments about this poem (Solitary. by David Lessard )

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  • Sara Fielder (6/11/2014 9:25:00 AM)

    The subject matter is surprising...society doesn't like to contemplate what prison must be like and for the prisoners themselves trying to keep their sanity intact. A very potent piece Dave. (Report) Reply

  • Lorraine Colon (6/10/2014 10:53:00 AM)

    Sometimes solitary is good - we get our thoughts in order. But being alone with our thoughts for too long can cause problems. Our thinking becomes warped and our thoughts stale. Interaction with others is essential to good mental health. Well written, David. (Report) Reply

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