Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Prison As Metaphor
The time was almost right
for the recitation of a poem
when the judge asked me
if I had anything to say before sentencing.
I wanted to say Yes – why the 'anything to say' ritual?
To make me squirm
before the varnished gavel comes down?
Oh, and why the gavel ritual?
But I said No.
I am guilty
so there is nothing else you need to know about me,
My crime, not me,
sits in a cell with green walls
When I arrived I would not lie down
Because that would make it my home
A voice on the radio says
“My life feels like prison.”
I want them to use a different metaphor.
One that doesn’t suck my life up
and turn it into a little diorama with plastic figurines
in aluminum foil chains
Behind bars made of pretzels
As if I could eat my way out of here
poem
by
Michael Philips
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black