All the Prisons, Pt. 1 -

Some prisons don’t have bars,

They’re made of ideas.

Sometimes a prison is built on hope;

A brass ring is a hangman’s rope.

Some prisons are made with scars

And gilded with subtle self-loathing.

There’s pill-bottle prisons with opiate locks

Reserved for the lucky ones.

All the prisons filling up through the cracks in your veneer,

And a prison being built for every child of empire.

All the prisons filling up with the bodies you can’t erase,

Evidence of broken teeth behind the smile of empire.

All the prisons filling up.

Some prisons don’t have walls,

They’re made of our bodies.

Mirrors and strangers and all that they see,

Staring through you.

Some prisons are made with need,

And hunger you can’t cure.

Find one that suits you and settle in tight,

Lest you be shuttled away to:

All the prisons filling up.

All the prisons filling up through the cracks in your veneer,

And a prison being built for every child of empire.

All the prisons filling up with the bodies you can’t erase,

Evidence of broken teeth behind the smile of empire.

All the prisons filling up.