Concrete Prison

I’m tired of this concrete prison
The metal and glass
That keeps me jailed here
I long for softer things
The green of grass in spring
The smooth caress of a summer breeze
Beds of fallen autumn leaves
The cold sting of winter’s rain
We don’t feel these things
In our high-rise penitentaries
We live vicariously
Through plasma screen TV’s
And computer monitors
Watching others live the lives
We lack the bravery to lead
Doing the things we wish we could
But are too afraid to try
Instead we go from office buildings
To apartment buildings
Barely breathing between glass encasements
As if fresh air would harm us
Living in fear of the world around us...

Do we even wonder why?

SB7/2005