Oh, the awful walls
	That prison me!
	My flesh, my bones,
	My heart
	Which beats
	Its measured cadence
	Deep within,
	All these chain me
	Than any stone or steel,
	Guard me closer
	Than any rifled watch.
	Nor were my jailors
	To leave me
	Peaceful in my solitude.
	No, they
	Torture me
	In a single
	Most effective way
	More searing than any fire,
	More grueling than any rack.
	Though they
	Took my freedom,
	Oh God,
	They left my memory!


© Fred O'Bryant. All rights reserved.

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