Hard Time
Distractions that are trivial,
have kept this poet sane.
Through passing seasons,
counted hours,
daydreams like waters rained.
I've doetted on the little things,
to advert those inner eyes.
for they know my darkest secrets,
concealed in pretty lies.
My days are numbered in this cell,
My "time" slips quickly by,
I view myself in passing pools,
reflections in prisoner's eyes.
Copyright © Kessie Liddiard | Year Posted 2010
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