Willing Prisoner (a poem)

You entered willingly. You entered forcefully.

Photo by Simran Sood on Unsplash

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This prison is deep,
way underground.

Buried under a pile of boxes;
above them, rocks, then sand,
and a metallic ceiling that seals it from the world.

It was built under the instruction of the self,
constructed by laborers of the mind.
Tunnels to the exterior were buried;
stone by stone
by our own thoughts.

Yet this self is manipulated by a system.

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You think it’s your fault for being here.
You, and only you.

But no—

The system drafted the blueprints of this prison,
hid the tools in plain sight for you to use,
offered a door that seemed inviting.
You entered—gladly,
yet forcefully.

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Don’t worry,
You can get out.

Begin by admitting you are imprisoned,
that strings are being pulled,
that you have been living,
denied your birthright of free will.

Grab a shovel.
Dig, and keep digging through the tunnel.
Untangle the thoughts blocking the way.
Detoxify the air that clouds the mind.

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Then—and only then—

you’ll see the light of liberation,
taste raw freedom.

You will RESIST, because you MUST!

And you will ARRIVE, because you CHOSE!

This prison was never locked

In fact,

THIS PRISON NEVER EXISTED!

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© The stranger

Writing is not what I do — it is what I chose over everything else. It is not a hobby, but rather a choice I make every day — to write instead, to stay here, to keep going. If these words have been worth your time, perhaps they are worth a quiet coffee too. Every contribution is not just support — it is permission for the next poem to exist.

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