The Prisoner

The Prisoner

I manifestly can envisage a cage
In it is locked a mighty sage
The keys were right there in his hands
But he wouldn’t give it a second glance
On the cell walls were witful-designed graffiti
But life has taught him apathy
I looked at the mirror and I saw him
Staring smirkingly right back at me
And I wonder when you behold the mirror of this art
If you will see your reflection instead of mine.



One thought on “The Prisoner” by Ihuoma Stephen (@ihuomastephen)

  1. @ihuomastephen
    Although, I could not decipher the meaning of this poem, I still enjoyed reading it somehow.
    Nice!

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