Counting the numbers
Watching the clock;
Twiddling thumbs, hands interlocked.

A violent frustration
spreads up from the floor;
grasping toes, curled in resistance.
Body shaking, about to be lured.
Completely contained
Under an uncontrollable control.

Judgement;

Judging
Life's worth, who you are;
What you are.
And the room is solitude
And the air is insincere
And the air is unyielding
And it strangles you beyond fear

Fear becomes stringent,
Constricting
Instructing.
It is firm, demanding and anxious,
Pressing its vigour
Longer
Stronger

A link weakens;
A grip loosens,
A movement escapes
A body is freed;

Liberty

Yet there are remains
Unimportant remains;
Confinement remains;

Soul remains

When all that’s left is life itself.
You’ve been taken over and left:
Not for dead
But taken, outside in
And inside left.
Right is restored,
Wrong remains
A soul lost;
But a body remains.

A modern sarcoma