Like a Prisoner

Like a prisoner waiting for his turn to die,
wondering how this could've happened. No time
for looking, better to be kept away from the world
that fears all that is not traditional. Look away
from their prying eyes, pay them no mind.

Like a prisoner waiting for his turn to die,
wondering alone, locked inside a hole,
the world fearing all that is unknown.
Everyone running to their priest, their pastor,
asking what is to become of them.

Like a prisoner waiting for his turn to die,
wanting to be set free, never wanting
to remember how cruel this world can be.
Don't look back at what was;
the world can never stop looking back.

Like a prisoner waiting for his turn to die.
The world is running from what is feared most,.
still playing cruel games, trying to protect what
doesn't exist. They shy away from what they know
so little of and try to make the seekers shy away too.

Like a prisoner waiting for his turn to die,
losing all his faith in the ancient texts,
finally realizing that maybe the world is wrong.
The world believing what is untrue of
the unknown that they fear most.


Rebecca Melendez