There is no way out;
perhaps there is nothing
outside, has never been.
There was never a door
that could have been
opened, closed, locked,
whose key gone missing.
No, never a door to exit,
never something outside
to be entered. Those framed
vistas on the walls not
windows, but misguided
creations of the imagination,
opening only into delusions.
It was always like this, all
mere futile visions of leaving,
expanding into what never was.
07.03.2024
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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