A Window is a World

They sit in cages
yet dream of far off places
four walls and a roof that are paid for
still only inspire blank pages

Blank stares punch blind clocks
that care not for them
as busy hands shed young skin
like mountains do rocks

Ipods induce robotic inspiration
zombie-like limbs march onward
cloning an ever growing mob
piped along for a dying sensation

As elections breed stale Presidents
bound by rules that must constrict
movement beyond designated borders
of hopelessly locked in residents

Around throats a flag is curled
while eyes close against the night
only opening them will show them all
A window is a world