Prisoner of Life
By Albert Ahearn •
He was a prisoner for life
cooped in a cell of human bones.
An unseemly brain had plagued him
and love was not to speak its name.
Rarely a smile was ever seen
or a pleasant song ever sung.
His heart beat just to stay alive,
his thoughts not shared with anyone.
Life’s woes made not the man this way
nor playact in some masquerade.
He was innately born this way
and died, it’s sad to say that way.
At his wake there were no others
only me, his loving brother.