Prisoner Of The Rock (6-19-04)

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A prisoner of the rock watches
A hammer and its chisel
Breathe life into an idea.

Under the glow of a painted face
Remains its emotionless gray,
Hidden in a frozen time.

A prisoner of the rock perceives
A hammer and its chisel
Forming an empty feeling.

Stains of water streak down
The natural arid texture of its skin
That no one would touch with love.

As the bankrupt heir of freedom,
It walks around aimlessly,
With a breeze flowing through it

Staring at its fingers touching
The signature hole in the center,
Lost along with the light it once held.

Yet only one hand on its own
Could raise his interest with its spirit,
One from the same hammer and chisel.

Copyright 2004 Danny Caballero

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