All of them, walking limbs.

Mental block, body shock –

repeating. Robots. Hymns.

Tick-tock, the broken clock.

 

This joke ain’t free.

You don’t want to know what it is to be me.

 

Stare into the screen.

The best thing you’ve ever seen.

False words and shiny pictures.

Oh, what a lovely place to kill your freedom.

 

This joke ain’t free.

You don’t want to know what it is to be me.

 

Now I pray that someday the inspiration

will send me back there where I had patience.

 

March 2014