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Four walls

… with the absence of

… four doors

… & four windows.

Four choices

… with the absence of

… the will to choose.

Be asleep

… stay awake

… be fuckin’ bored

… or be dead.

Either of those ways

… you still have to be confined.

They let the knowledge stream

… without letting you

… question it.

They let the music be heard

… without letting you

… dance to its beat.

They let the love radiate

… without letting you

… feel it.

And after a while

… you get used to the

… four walls.

And you stop searching for

… the four doors & windows.

And you stop searching for answers

… though you still exemplify the

… faculties of the existing.

You breathe, you eat

… you seemingly smile

You bite your tongue

… you poke your eyes.

But pain becomes

… a stranger

… to the senses.

And it is at this time

… you would realize

… you are dead

… & confined.

 ©Marjo Josue