Imprisoned - there are a pair of hands holding onto prison bars from the inside of a cell.
Photo by Ron Lach on
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

Thanks for reading! If this poem resonated with you, please click the like button and leave a comment. Follow me if you would like to receive updates whenever new posts are published.

Published by Brandon Ellrich

I live in Central Missouri and enjoy reading, writing, playing tennis, watching movies, and exploring creative outlets. I have a Bachelor of Science degree in psychology and I love to take my readers inside the minds of my characters.

6 thoughts on “Imprisoned

    1. Thank you! I’m doing well. I’ve been busy with my freelance writing job and trying to keep up with my blog on Medium, so I haven’t had as much time to interact with others on WordPress.
      I’m glad you liked the poem. Are you still adjusting okay since the surgery?

      Liked by 1 person

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