Trapped in the meter,
a prisoner of rhyme
My spirit indicted,
destroyer of time
A minstrels disciple,
epistle in hand
The sound and the rhythm,
my souls contraband
New couplets my jailer,
their sentences terse
The key to their freedom,
locked deep in the verse
And serving in silence,
chalk marks on the wall
I listen intently,
for one voice to call
Awaiting its pardon,
this conviction will end
My words liberated
—to forever...
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