My Cell

by Shine   Jul 22, 2011


Hail to the sheet that's right before me,
My cell but not hell this is where I am free!
The words to me they are what I command,
I'm a slave to the paper and pen in my hand.
A prisoner to ink,
My cell mate my thoughts,
Placed in a tower from the neck up above.
Cuffed to the tool that releases my fury,
Since a very young girl this has been my true story.
I'm guarded by the bars that express my true feelings,
Condemned here for life and sentenced with healing.
Chained to my soul here within my four walls,
This is where I am me... I'm me... just plain me.

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Latest Comments

  • 13 years ago

    by Ray Smallshaw

    Poetry the releaser and the stress freer. You and many of us love to put pen to paper and do so as often as you can read as much as you can and read book about poetry and it poets and you will find you will grow and develop your own distinct type of style unique to only you and don't worry what people say though learn from it if it is useful many will be jealous but many here know their stuff so look to them for help. You will see those of use and those that dabble. Ray S 5/5