Cells (a poem)

The walls are closing,

Nearer they come

By the moment.

Content, we are confined.

Our cells, not made

Of iron bars

Or icy stone,

But belts wrapped ’round our minds.

We are blind.

There is no light

Here. And we lie

Dumbfound, for ‘no thought’ is our crime.

“Feed me.” They feed.

“Teach me.” They teach.

We crawl and beg,

Receive and believe. There are no lies

When truth is found

In other’s eyes.

The choice was ours,

We gave it up and freely came inside.

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