Active love and intimacy.

The mirror reflects anger.

A key is stolen, and one young man’s innocence is questioned, and of course, doubted.

The feeling of being locked up.

A short story of An Imprisoned Man remembering life as it was before America’s Down fall.

Time has come to say no more. My forefathers were sold, imprisoned and shackled by slavery.

Sunlight falls in.

Is love not like a bird, fallen from the skies, imprisoned in a cage of dull gray, forever bound, forever sorrowed?

Look at me, can’t you see? I am here, imprisoned inside this big blue bottle….

I’m like that bird, trapped in my own illusions, wanting to break free, but something’s holding me back.