Saturday, April 18, 2015

Prison in the Mind

The mature woman believes the child
Has grown up, evolved into a new form
It is not true

The hard, rough, cruel stone
That had been thrown into the innocent pond
Disturbed its peace forever

The ripples reverberate from the child to the woman
They disturb her sleep
She stands still

The untouched do not know
They believe there is much ado about nothing
And yet there has been a transgression, a sin

And through the years, the criminal has always been free
The prison door opened to close on the mind
Of the innocent child.
   © Natala Orobello

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