Acrostic: Gallon Jug Prisons
©2019, Olan L. Smith
Great giant balls of liquid flame, burn through the impermeable
Anti-gravity papier-mâché domains filled with prisons, as
Large as gallon milk jars, where ice is hotter than a
Liquid sun's surface, and a man's prison keys are made
Of the molten ore, of the center of arctic icebergs, during the day's
Night fall at the dawn of evening's rise.
Justices is cruel, unfair to the innocent in this realms where the
Unjust ruler declares right wrong, and imprisons freedom,
Grants the wise the dunce cap, and laughs aloud.
Prick your skin, see the blood flow green down your arm,
Restrict yourself to small biospheres is a strange misconception;
Innocently declared truth, and angry souls foully,
Speak falsities as strength, ignorance as authority where lies
Ordained truth. Plug the bottle top, seal yourself inside,
Never venture out into the light of night's darkness, for
Surely you will shrivel into a molten pile of decayed wisdom.
YOU ARE READING
Poems from the Quill, by Olan L. Smith
Poetry"Poems from the Quill" is where I place current works that don't fall into other collections. It is here you will find obscure poems that range from constraint to free-verse. I began this collection as a contest entry, years ago, for what was then t...
