Escape the port prison
I am in chains and locked behind concrete walls, they say it’s for my own protection, but why does it trouble me so.
There is no movement, no wind, just the smell of the stinking rot that permeates all my senses, its visual, and it’s felt 24 hours a day.
This concrete habitation offends my being, I sneeze and I cough, the pollution is total and is all around, my logic is turmoil because I know that I am paying for this experience.
How can I sleep, when the trucks roll by and bounce on the road humps that are meant to keep life safe and civilized, the street sirens in my sleep just warning of what will happen to me if I stay too long.
Ahh where are the joys of these cities of steel and bricks, designed with the imagination of a gold fish, fabricated to only last a fashion season, and at a cost that holds the inhabitants in debt just long enough that they must stay in place until retirement.
The calculated superannuation plan that will never be fully used is manipulated to give some hope of many years of freedom to come, but the number cruncher's know their game and our life expediencies all too well.
I am a rare and fortunate creature, I was allowed to test that the grass can be greener on the other side of the fence. But to climb that fence wasn’t by fortune, by gift or by heritage, just determination and desire.
We can live our dreams, but most will never, if we constantly condition ourselves by the surrounding consumerism and media signals, then we will never leave our prisons that we pay for.
But ports are made with an opening to the sea, thank god I can freely sail with a good breeze.