Words Revised
Your words held me prisoner. Like Andy Dufresne, I was held captive despite my innocence. Like him, I was a convict of the circumstances. A convict living within the boundaries of your mind. And I peered out of the cage, Always dreaming of the Pacific that remembers nothing. I dreamt of a wave that would wash away my memory as it crashed. I could have looked upon this as inevitable, Just bad luck, and perhaps it was. But I dreamt so vividly of a life with possibilities And I wondered how it could have ever been reality. We are not victims of circumstance, We are warriors in our own lives. Sometimes holding nothing But words on a crinkled page.