Are you a prisoner, a captive?
Are you grasping iron bars?
Are you staring up toward daylight from your ground?
Are you creeping? Are you furtive?
Are you unable to go far?
Are you kept until your life has given out?
Have you found it? Have you seen?
Have you scratched away the mold?
Have you pressed and pulled a tunnel from the grout?
Have you smelled it? Have you gleaned?
Have you crawled out through the hole?
Have you burst to light, to blink and breathe and shout?
Did you dance then? Did you leap?
Did you carelessly repose?
Did you meditate in peaceful Nature’s sound?
Did you comfort? Did you sleep?
Did you wash and rinse your clothes?
Did you laugh, forgetting days under the shroud?
Were you stupid? Were you passive?
Were you irresponsible?
Were you not expecting searches, to be found?
Were you caught, a willing captive?
Were you shamed and miserable?
Were you unsatisfied with anything without?
Can you see now? Can you strain?
Can you stand to be informed?
Can you take the step you’re terrified about?
Can you boldly bear the pain?
Can you escape once more?
Can you justify this life of dark and doubt?
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