Prison isn't just a place, where criminals are sent...
I live in prison daily no matter how my time is spent.
I don't do crimes, yet all my time, is spent in my small cell...
Searching, hoping, praying to escape this living hell.

My body is my temple, at least that's what was told...
Something to be cherished, from youth 'til I grew old...
What happens when the structure, is no longer strong and sound?
Can it be repaired, is it worth the time, or should it be torn down?

Condemned by eyes that only see the surface or facade...
They can not see the beauty, so they label it as odd.
Broken walls and weather stains, alone in it's empty space..
If looked at closely, one will see, it resembles a tear stained face.

How could a thing of beauty, be so ugly and unwanted...
Regardless of the strength it holds, with desires yet undaunted?
A source of joy, a fount of love, when people brought their pain...
Why is it now, I'm breaking down, a faithful few remain?

A spirit trapped, and tethered down, no longer able to take flight...
Like a bird with broken wing flapping, can't fly, try as it might....
Happiness, a fleeting thought, what woe will life next bring?
Anger, sadness, loss of hope, is why I think the caged bird sings.

Although it's safe, it longs to feel, the freedom it once knew...
To fly and soar towards the heavens, in an endless sky of blue.
Knowing this is something, it can never do again...
The joyous songs you hear today are sad odes for the end!