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Self Imposed Prison

By: Mistress of Word Play

Page 1, This piece is about me. I lost four of my family members relatively close together and I went into isolation.

So you've put yourself in exile
and locked tight the tower's door.
Now you endlessly walk that marble tile.
You've become just another metaphor.

Your hair's a mess and so are the nails.
Seems you never wash your face.
You hide behind those yellowed veils
your inadequacies and disgrace.

You've banished every sunbeam
that through your window breaks.
You've destroyed each sweet dream
because you made a few mistakes.

Have you no clue something is amiss?
Your heart is frozen solid as a rock.
How deep have you fallen into the abyss?
Are you ever lonely in your tower block?

There was a time that I still remember
when your heart was a brilliant light
and it glowed deep and rich as an ember
but now you cower and remain out of sight.

Whatever tragedy or pain was the cause
is it worth the lengths you now take?
Perhaps these words will make you pause
and your strange ways you'll forsake.

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