Enslaved

We all know,
the prison is not real
but lately,
the iron bars
pressing on us
are so easily felt,
are so easily seen.

The light,
that used to warm us
then
when we were free,

it has lost it’s brightness
it’s warmth…
maybe, it missed you
or maybe,
it just missed me

the old us,
and the way how we were
when we were outside,
when we were free!

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