The bars are composed of ideas,
The door is our System of Beliefs,
And the single window looks out upon
An endless landscape of
Unfulfilled wishes, dreams, and desires.
We huddle safe in the corner
Of our tiny cell,
Motionless and inert,
Listening to the constant hum
Of our innermost thoughts;
Careful lest we discover the awful truth,
That the door to this private hell
Has never been
Locked.
^__^
