Reared Within a Prison

She was reared within a prison;
how small and sad it stood.
The walls were formed of mottled glass;
the base of rotted wood.

For years her life reflected there,
distorted on each pane.
How ugly then her future seemed;
all efforts made in vain.

She learned to play with fantasy
to help the long days pass;
anything to thwart the truth,
reflected in the glass.

Somehow in this sunless cell
she found a bit of string,
wove a rope 10 years long -
then gave a mighty fling.

The rope fell short by twenty yards,
and landed on the floor -
“Dear Lord,” she sighed dejectedly -
“I can’t do this anymore.”

Written May 8, 2002