The Prisoner

Today I feel held hostage;
yesterday I felt free.
The day before - I don't remember.

Moments of freedom are scattered
here and there
and I live to remember them.

Embittered at times by being told
when to sleep
when to wake
what to eat, and where, hot or cold
or not at all
where to go
or not go.
When to make love.

He doesn't understand why -
why we are his beseiged.
A blank stare, or none at all is our answer.
But now and then a look,
a faint connection and my spirits rise
with the fragile hope that his days
of being a hostage within himself
can one day be over.