Prison tales

Imprisonment and stories make for strange bedfellows 
but I suppose the best tales 
come from the fire-pits of anguish 
yet another found my ears
one more story 
without a happily ever after 

tears always make me uncomfortable 
and there he was;
crying oceans of sorrow 
green eyes robbed of the beauty it once had 
a man stuck on despair-boulevard 

he whispered of his child 
buried without a father
a father denied one last glance 
of his wife's callous desertion 
a man's loss of his only family 
he was imprisoned and helpless 
to change the ink in fate's black book 

there is no comforting such a man
I was only an instrument of destiny 
in silence I sat
as he quietly composed himself 
walking away 
a defeated man's weary footsteps 

I was left with the irony 
of a man who walked into a cage 
free and smiling
now into the free world he went 
tear-streaked 
forever imprisoned. 

© Lost