In The Folds Of A Flower

Here inside captivity a draughty
escape beckons; cold-backed and inviting,
tears hang from bars as freedom laughs at me,
I pray each day to be free; to soar language,
but my novel of flight shall have to be
postponed unless I am given reprieve.
All I desire lies in the folds of
a flower, of a tree's rough branch that calls
while I dream of another place and time.
In the dull ache of existence fear howls,
rubs itself quickly against subtle frowns,
the present's occupation scowls vicious
ripples of an insane society.

The system denied my beautiful life,
I wipe my eyes with a black fractured cry.
But I will not fall, broken, I will rise
and push my way towards an upright laugh,
it will slap the tired face of my gaoler
that mocks me mightily with wild shriek lies,
no surrender shall batter my condition.
It does not matter this innocence; jailed,
I won't bow down my soul to their taunting,
I'll smile, slowly, failure's not an option.
A sad fist of shade; broken with wide loss,
quick intricate sorrow screams blue caution;
fine wisps of thought wrapped in bitter chaos.
In the confines of death I'll breathe my love
in a wave of goodbye and be at peace.