Another Orchid

We live contained in separate jars,

Humanity concealed;
Stare vacantly between the bars
Across life’s cruel minefield.

We see the lives of other men,

Feel guilt for being a spy –
Make desperate efforts to wave at them
Who are about to die.

We breath ice messages on our walls

Which no one else can read,
And want to live by different rules –
A want, but not a need.

Irrational movements to afar

Will smash the glass we dread,
Running in life from jar to jar –
Someone’s already dead.

Cocooned within fraudulent liberty

We look back on our days,
Dark corridors of mystery
That reach into a haze.

Different words on different lines,

White orchids have turned black.
We’ll run from jars a million times
When what we left comes back.