the rain behind the bars is not really wet

people are hiding from the rain

their faces are all wet

umbrellas dancing in the rain

gusty winds tear at them

to the southeast where the land is bare

yet no one dares to look

seemingly busy with books

let it rain on our parade

there’s nothing but

the sounds of an unfaithful cause

locked in a cell

where are you serving your sentence

behind bars everything is blurry

a shadow of your past and future transgressions

from all that crap outside

you wish you could solve it but you don’t know how

with every raindrop hitting the metal roof

you wish you were somewhere else

but there’s nowhere else

after what you’ve done and you are aware

that the consequences are knocking on your door

every minute and every second setting the score

will you count all your new scars?

lessons you’d never learn

if you weren’t here again

*

for J O

*

February 2023

***

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