Joseph Doyle

Dunlaoghaire, Dublin, Ireland

The Prisoner

Sat in his cell thinking,
The silence was deafening,
Alone in his thoughts,
Time without meaning.
A bird on the window sill,
Reminding him of freedom,
Four walls closing in,
Crushing his spirit.
The years passing by,
With nothing to show,
Just getting older,
Waiting for death.
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