Prisoner in Time.

A cap protects him,
from the frigid January winds,
he walks,
his fingers intertwined,
not with a lover,
but a stranger instead.

He walks,
his head bowed down,
cowed down,
old memories, older still,
bygones and bygones,
oh! the life he has already seen.

Here’s a young boy,
“picked” up,
stateless and unknown,
a cap protects him,
only that much though,
his enemies are many more.

I stood watching,
him walk past by,
red eyes, I saw,
red eyes on a lineless young face,
red eyes, they were,
where tears had once been.

Gaol is his home,
gaol is where he will remain,
the bars across his cell,
validate his allegations,
prisoner in time he is,
prisoner he will remain.


This poem is written for the faith, belief and inspiration of committed young & old women and men who have been incarcerated under allegations of waging war against the State.


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