David R. “Poppa” Alexander


Sitting on a bench head down
Nothing but iron bars
No help coming, none expected.

Memories flood the mind
No rest, no sleep, no freedom.
Caged, yes caged in your own mind.

Feelings of hopefulness;
No hope, none: just emptiness.
Still sitting, still waiting.

No feelings, strange despair
Keep the darkness
No light doth shine

No escape, no hope to find
Waiting for death
The only relief that will last

The entire spectrum of colors
But only in eyes of the mind
Stench of death

Still caged, still no hope, still no relief;
Dare not to sleep, perchance to dream
Black cloaked vision of death.

To escape, a foolish dream
To be free, a fools reality
Caged until death.

Realism? No such thing exist
Torture? Only self-imposed…
Relief? Not in this life