768 Days a Prisoner

(But Thanks to My Crew)

Copyright ©2023 John Wm Beckner - All Rights Reserved

In a prison of my own design, I dwell,
768 days, a captive in this cell.
Though not of bars or iron gates confined,
'Tis but a dream, a trick of my own mind.

The walls draw closer with each passing morn,
Their shadows lengthen, my spirit torn.
No space to mark the days with tick marks true,
Just isolation, a week overdue.

A wheelchair ramp, the cause of my dismay,
Rebuilt, it seems, in a prolonged delay.
A bridge to freedom, now an abyss to woe,
As days drag on, and time moves so slow.

Yet in this dream, I find a silver thread,
A lesson learned while lying in bed.
For freedom's value, never clearer seen,
Than in the shadows of this self-made screen.

I long for open skies and open doors,
For paths unblocked, and endless, open shores.
But in this dream, I'm taught resilience's art,
To find the strength to mend my broken heart.

I'll rise above the prison of my mind,
Though walls may close, my spirit's unconfined.
In truth, it's just a momentary blight,
A wheelchair ramp rebuilt, a fleeting night.

For soon, the dawn will break, the dream will fade,
And I'll emerge, unbroken and unswayed.
In every challenge, strength and grace reside,
A dream of freedom, on the other side.

With gratitude, I sing of Chris and Florencio's might,
Two beacons in the darkness, guiding through the night.
Amidst the shadows, they toiled side by side,
Their dedication and strength, a constant, steady tide.

Chris, a pillar of support, unwavering and true,
In this dream of trials, he knew just what to do.
With every sunrise, he brought hope anew,
In his hands, the tools of freedom he'd construe.

And Florencio, a master of craft and care,
With skillful hands, my burden he would bear.
They built the ramp, a bridge to liberty,
In their work, they set my spirit soaring free.

To you, Chris and Florencio, my heartfelt thanks I send,
In this dream (or reality), you are true friends.
Your efforts, like a lighthouse, shine so bright,
Guiding me through this dark and endless night.

In the prison of my mind, your names I'll hold dear,
For you've shown me that freedom is always near.
With your hard work and dedication, I am blessed,
In this dream (or the waking world), I am truly impressed.


9/27/23 A dream about an ever-shrinking cell in which I am imprisoned. This dream was caused by my
feeling isolated while my wheelchair ramp is being rebuilt. The problem with the cell is I’ve run
out of room for the tick marks to mark my days of captivity. 10/4/23 Now it’s like 2 poems combined
in one. The praise to the crew portion is from a dream where the ramp is finished, there’s a ribbon
cutting and a ticker-tape parade in praise of the crew. Sometimes, I love living in my own head. 😊