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Poetical prisoner

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  • Poetical prisoner

    You are welcome in my heart

    and you can hold me by the hand

    but if you peek inside my mind

    there's things you'd never understand...



    Through the automatic motions goes the nomadic mime

    tumbling face-forward to stay ahead of his climb

    Misunderstood, as he's ahead of his time

    Ahead of his mind...ahead of his rhyme


    Crying, sighing, stumbling blind

    his fingers moving rapidly toward words he's trying to find

    but a sign-language rhyme doesn't rhyme when it's signed

    A poetical prisoner trapped inside his own mind


    The unspoken word his claim to fame

    and charades is more than just a game

    No one knows his sorrow, no one knows his shame

    and no one knows his pain, for nobody knows his name


    In a box, in a box...sometimes he's always in a box

    In his heart he hears laughter, in his mind; heartfelt talks

    Sadly-ever-after, he can't break those mental locks

    that create a path of blocks and a garden full of rocks


    The sun gets blotted out from the midnight sky

    as blackbirds grin from perches high

    A constant, quiet tear rolling slowly down his eye

    Say bye to the bad guy...bye to the mad guy


    Au revoir, sad mime...fare thee well, we say

    We feel better about ourselves by watching your display

    You made the pain and the rain of our lives go away

    if only for a moment...if only for a day


    Through the winds of March, the mime marches on

    He's long forgotten the face the paint is painted upon

    He prepares tomorrow's sorrows to be played at dawn

    In a world of kings and queens, the mime is merely a pawn


    But this is now and that was then

    Yesterday...or way back when

    I won't go back there ever again

    and I may be known to no other men


    I don't know them, but I know me

    and I know who it is that I'm longing to be

    so I cry to the heaven's "Lord, hear my plea"

    "I am not of this world...and I pray to be free"



    I know not what tomorrow brings, nor what I'm searching for

    but on this day the Lord has made, the mime will weep no more

    A comedy of tragedies has kept me all alone

    until I turned my voice to God above...to whom my name is known

  • #2
    Wow, rhyma. This is awesome. Great job.

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    • #3
      What she said!

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      • #4
        What they said!

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        • #5
          Lol, you guys.

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          • #6
            Truly awesome

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