Prisoners of War

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
Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace