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Death is a blanket, keeping me warm, Night is a prison, holding no form, A door with no lock, a lock with no key, Out of this prison, no one is free, My cell has no bounds, No guard does his rounds, This place has no walls, it has no floor, To set me free, just open my door, Bars of silk, keep me here, And it isn't my prison that I fear, My prison is not , of any old kind, For my prison, is my mind. |
I love it. The whole thing was amazing and all i can say is that this is going straight to my favorites list.| Posted on 2006-10-19 00:00:00 | by LoveToHateMe | [ Reply to This ] | I relate to this absolutely. My prison IS my mind and it is the case with most of the artists. I believe this is the most sensible poem I have read in a long time. Pointing out that, along with the great idea, the rhyme and vocabulary you succeeded to cause me to feel something and that is rare among these poets here. | | Posted on 2006-10-09 00:00:00 | by Porcelaine | [ Reply to This ] | This was very cool, I absolutely loved it! Definitly going in my favorites. | There's nothing wrong with this piece, it's all just perfect:) Nice job Lia | Posted on 2006-05-16 00:00:00 | by Glassy Eyed | [ Reply to This ] | |