There's a freedom inside this cell
Ashamed be not to go wrong
And I am behind no metallic bars
But of wood
Certainly no privacy
With no locks attached
I am but a prisoner when outside of it
How's that possible?
Inside the word there's, for me
YOU ARE READING
POM POEMS
PoésieFeelings turned into words; squeezed from experiences (FINISHED since these were the thoughts from my young mind)
