In my solitary cell.

Down on the cold floor I sat,
Facing the rising sun whose
rays were only visible light
in my room,
It had been a long night,
Quite a warm one infact,
on my quarter inch mattress
and half torn blanket,
not to forget the hundred brothers i had on ;bedbugs.

I scratched my open wounds ,
and remembered my life as a political activist,
i remembered my suffering two year old kid
asking questions like how long mummy will take to reach home,
I recalled my long speeches,
They were worth a lot of struggle.

There was no hope in this place ,
No one to turn to,
But yes I had a free mind,
That was not detained,
I knew a time would come,
a time to face reality,
a time to say goodbye
to this life,
and embrace what i truly believe in,
something more than a solitary cell.

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2 comments

  1. Fred · December 18, 2014

    Hey.. Nice piece of a poet.. “hundred brothers” hahaha.. its got humor and also sadness “facing the reality of life” nice one.. Keep it up

    Liked by 1 person

  2. brian · February 24, 2015

    really incredible

    Like

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