Sipping from a glass of bourbon <br />....that could use a zest of lemon <br />I am held hostage by my desire to escape <br />and therefore a prisoner of this room.... <br />both my legs have become useless <br />as my mind crawls around the floor <br />seeking refuge in the dark corners <br />where I pray.... petitioning for a deadly virus <br />to end my obsessing over self.... <br />Compelled by distant others to connect <br />I seek a common protocol before <br />attempting to modem digital images <br />that will depict me as being lucid or intelligible.... <br />God forbid....I should succumb <br />to any reality or objective truth <br />Concerned by my degree of ominous dread <br />as 'To be or not to be'.... the questioned <br />I become the accused and the interrogated <br />as well as the subjective evil interrogator <br />Life for me used to be so fabulously simple <br />when as a young soldier of fortune <br />it was 'Kill or be killed' rather than <br />the death sentence of being <br />a bi-gone veteran of a bastard war <br />I have out of a need to survive society <br />pronounced myself guilty of many heinous war crimes <br />yet in truth I have committed only one <br />and that one being against my alter ego.... <br />The poet in me survives but as required <br />he perpetually suffers the sins of his father <br />and of the violent world around him <br />While one picks up his deadly weapons <br />the other picks up his all but passive pen <br />in a contentious battle for the freedom of survival.... <br />Emperor.....Let the games begin <br />To the winner...shall go the spoils <br />To this encounter there is no end____ <br /> <br />Sipping from a glass of bourbon <br />....that could use a zest of lemon <br />I lament___ <br /> <br />2007 ©tedgsheridan<br /><br />Ted Sheridan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-poet-p-o-w-or-soldier-who-is-m-i-a/
