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Cold floor on torn feet,
torn feet of a broken man,
back against the cell wall,
this room this place now home.
Waiting, now holdingand being held,
eyes closed, quiet.
Cold floor now warm,
sun finding a route to his cheek, warm.
Space now around,
freed and now ready to free,
free his pain, heartache, his torn feet from this cold floor.
©2007-2009 ~MR-GARFEILD
:iconmr-garfeild:

Author's Comments

HEY FOLKS

this was a sorta spur of the moment kinda blast of inspiration.

was staring at a couple of metal bars and thought about the word CELL. then played a word association game and i tried to use eveyr word in that game in this poem somehwere.

These were the words:

Cell/ Room/ Holding/ Quiet/ Peace/ Rest/ warm/ sun/ space/ free/ Prison/ cell.

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September 4, 2007
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