At one time in my life I was working in a jail. Not exactly a fun place to work. However, I had the opportunity to see what my life might have been, had I not been fortunate to live the life I led. In jail I was flooded with many emotions coming from all directions. There are those who spend most of their lives in a small cell, not much larger than a standard bathroom. For some it is their whole world. As the days go by the loneliness increases. This poem came to me one night, after an especially tough day at work.
Lockdown ~ A Room Full of Empty
A room so small...each wall closing in on me...on my...heart...no
sunlight...only a small box where when it is open...I can see out...I call your
name...but no answer comes my way...I long to see your face...hear your
voice...know that you still care...yet no words from you...no laughter...only
emptiness and despair...I think I hear footsteps...and turn my head toward the
box...to find only nothing...my momentary hope dashed like surf pounding on
rocks...you were here once...every day...you stopped by...told me you
cared...told me you loved me...but now...there is only emptiness
...in a room full of empty...
© Skya Wode
10 December 1997
