Imprisoned

I built my prison not with bricks,
Not with metal, wood, or stone.
The material was giv’n by foes,
But constructed by myself alone.

Razor wire does not pierce my heart,
Four walls do not constrain my soul;
Instead, four letters are all that bind,
And keep me from being whole.

Insecurities and doubt,
Make up the cage that holds me here.
Locked away by an unseen force,
This prison’s name is FEAR.

You cannot do these things you want,
I’m told by others and myself;
And so my talents and my hopes,
Were put up high upon a shelf.

I look out at the world around,
As others live so well.
I envy them their freedom,
As I sit here in my cell.

The incarcerated irony,
Is I can choose to leave;
For though the door is shut and locked,
I hold the only key.

Copyright © 2022 Brandon Ellrich

*Originally published on Medium

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