The Ghosts That Wait For Spring

Somewhere in a prison
There’s a muffled cry
From a hooded figure
Please don’t forget me
To redact a human
Black blocks on existence
A ghost in a cell
Stripped
A shuffled gait
Betrays the mind of a man
Reduced to echoes and rumours
Of where truth lies
Every inch of skin clothed
With head in a bag
Relic of humanity
Forget
Again