I am being held prisoner

by my own mind,

sentenced to life for what

I can’t leave behind.

The memories of mistakes

that I have made

stand guard and man

the barricades.

They prevent entry to any

hope of forgiveness

or any thought they may

find suspicious.

Instead my only visitors

are my regrets

who at least come bearing

the gift of cigarettes.

I am guilty as charged with

no hope of parole

all that is left is to say a

prayer for my soul.

silhouette of a man in window
Photo by Donald Tong on


  1. Hi when you talked about they were bearing the gift of cigarettes I thought that was perfect. What if they instead had brought files…and saws…Would you have been able to get out of your mournful state…of inaction?

    Liked by 1 person

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