Our Prison Poem by Randy McClave
Our Prison
The bird that lives in the decorated cage,
Lives in rage;
The fish that swims in a fluorescent fishbowl,
Has no goal;
The man who sits in an office wearing a suit and a tie,
Wants to die!
The people or animals that live in a cell,
Live in hell.
When tomorrow arrives and the sun has risen,
We all enter or choose our own little prison.
Randy L. McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 6:59:13 AM # 1.0.0.1119
We don't all live in a prison. Some of us like where we work or live or both. Your poem is well written, in any case.