Prison-Industrial Complex

Imprisoned by societal groupthink, I try to free myself through self-think.

Part I | Verse

I got these words on lock
Then I threw the keys away.
My mental prison’s getting crowded
My poems are the words that got away.

Part II | Stream of (Sub)consciousness

I held out my wrists to society to be shackled by golden handcuffs, now I’m a psychedelic prisoner in a monochromatic cell. My wrists glow with an auric aura, but I’m locked up so I don’t think anyone can tell. The gold bars sitting in my cell are starting…