Feelings of one being disabled haunt one’s soul continually, not only do they themselves feel locked in a body that cannot function normally in society, but many times even those very near have vague misconceptions.
I’m sure, well deserving I am
my sins and selfishness
my wayward ways now understand
almost more than bare, my sentence
bars I cannot see
chains and shackles hands and feet
not seen but very present nevertheless
I myself have built, this prison of desolation.
All are faithless none able to vision
as if a child my life continually enclosed
as an infant treated with indecision
troubled by those who talk faith most
their talk only words of indiscretion
deceitful words fed me as truth
crippled legs a misconception
this prison of desolation.
Am I also deaf and dumb too?
As if one sickness, life disqualified
everything my life dilute
nothing in this life satisfied
corruption rampant as wild horses
deception flows as flood waters
yet no conscience of remorse
while I’m locked in this prison of desolation.
Feelings from within now nearly numb
those who care invisible
those who would help seem as none
nothing my mind as sensible
though place to place yet a cage
though the sights may vary some
no where I look, a place of escape
how long will I suffer ..this prison of desolation?
Poetry
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