by Brian Keith Compton

Created on: April 29, 2007   Last Updated: May 14, 2007

These crusted, ancient walls
fence me in.
For eighteen years
I've been held within.

Peering into his well-worn,
scaly eyes,
I'm muddled and lost in
my own foggy lies.

Ducking his persistent words
that humble,
beneath my feeble arguments
I crumble.

Filled with self-indulgence,
I refuse to see
a world I don't care for
that cares for me.

Breaking his leash in heated
frustration,
I fight for my freedom and just
vindication.

Moistening eyes I take away
from his,
with contempt for his punishing
relentlessness.

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