Soledad

How poetic

To know that

(In Spanish)

There lies a prison called Solitude

In the town of Loneliness

Perhaps the cells are

Cramped

Dark

Damp

Barred

And separated by impenatrable walls

Or perhaps the prisoners are stuffed

Into a single yard

And jostle with their elbows and raise their voices

And are much too close together-

Though either way

I imagine

That they must still feel alone