and i see you there

drenched in blue

stone corner

the sound of your low sobbing.

i reach out and crumble to dust

as you touch my hand

the chains, pulled down tight

hold you in place.

try and pull the shackles loose

try to break from the wall

but echoes remind you

of your futility.



how cold, how cold

are the bars that jail your mind?

how cold, how cold

have you become?

11/23/2002

Posted on 11/23/2002
Copyright © 2026 Andrew S Adams