Time a Prison
Time – a prison
I see my Daughter’s life, spent in a time capsule,
locked in this prison, a prisoner of her own devices,
waiting for the phone to ring, to bring her to life,
to open the cage door, behind which she keeps herself,
hidden, setting her free for a moment, to run,
with living time, instead of locked up in it,
letting it be her guide, carrying her along.
The moment of life passes, time once again stands still,
as she reincarcerates herself, relegated to that void,
that pain filled space of motionless, lifeless time,
dead time created by, imprisoned by her belief
- in this conman, a man steeped in ********, in lies,
this imbecilic child in a man’s shell -
that it’s love coming from this controlling child / man
fated by, fuelled by the emotions of a child, my Child.
Oh !!!, to turn back the clock, if but I could,
teach my Daughters, they need not, should
not follow, blindly, the footsteps of us who would
send them on a journey towards self-destruction,
we, who guided them along without instruction,
we who failed them miserably!!!
That we, be their mother and me.
B. J. “A ” 2
May 5th 2002
Copyright © William J. Jr. Atfield | Year Posted 2013
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