My Prison Poem by H E Alexander

No sentence has been passed on me,
No jailer have I to detain me here,
No sturdy lock to prevent my leave,
Yet there's no escape; I can go nowhere.

There is nothing here to pen me in,
There's no need to lie here upon my bed,
There are no chains to keep me bound,
For my prison is deep within my head.

Their enquiring eyes see into me,
Searching my soul with unforgiving zeal,
It matters not how deep the wounds,
It matters not the pain that I feel.

They know nothing of me, yet slander still,
Their criticisms cut like an acicular sword,
Their twisted tongues like a hangman's noose,
Contracting with each opprobrious word.

Freedom, a strategy I cannot play,
Death, precious death, my only release,
I'll summon you here to cut out my heart,
Then hold your hand till my breathing cease.

Yes, you may mourn with sorrowful tears,
When gone from this lonely solitude I'll be,
But don't weep for long, my dearest friend,
For at last, for ever, I will be free.