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Poem

My eyes are worn into the ground
My ears are aching from hearing these sounds
My mind still tells me I should run
Instinctive clashes shoot the gun

Feet are blistered on the grass
Things I want can’t make this pass
It’ll never be alright if I’m here
As long as I’m alive there will be fear

Soil is blinding still I dig
Hands are bleeding for nothing
Gravel spinning round and round
For death, it’s here I’ll build my mound

I’m a prisoner, I dig for god
Bury myself and watch you nod
I’m a slave to plagues but still I smile
If I twitch I must run a mile

I know that if I danced for you
I’d get a cookie, get me through
I know that if I tried to scream
I’d end up waking in a dream
I know that when I talk for you
I get my water, but for who?
I know that when I try to stand
Shackles throw me, but where do I land?

Prisoner to mind and soul
They’re not mine, but still I go
Build my chapel on a ridge
Making sure there’s no bridge
Afraid to tell you what you know
The guards won’t ever let it show
Keep a happy face before
It gets worse and I get sore
This is a war

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