Tide as it ebbs and flows,
The tick of time,
Makes prisoners of us all.
Deep down we understand
What makes us what we are,
What makes us nothing else.
But in the long run,
Relentless and breathless,
Exhaustion leaves the fingers numb
Too clumsy to turn a key or pick at locks.
In that moment we know
escape was never enough.
© BH, 2012/2023
Previously published in 2012 in Love is the Law Magazine, I’ve added this, the 3rd part plus the original part 1, and part 2 of the longer poem from which it was taken.
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