#HashtagPrison#

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# We’re living in a hashtag prison #
# With maximum security passwords and special characters #
# Full of status updates and tweets posted in solitary confinement #
# And visitations from notifications and reminders for things no one remembers #
#
# Trolls, cyberbullies and racists are locked up in here #
# Small time users and serial tweeters alike #
# Locked up for likes, comments and retweets #
# What are you in here for – when did you arrive? #
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# Numbers gangs rule the inside #
# The number of followers and the number of friends #
# They get involved in personal attacks and gang twars #
# And they are forever recruiting through friend requests #
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# Data bundles are the currency of choice #
# Hunger strikes are prevalent when they are depleted #
# Withdrawal symptoms kick in for addicts deprived of their daily high #
# As followers wait patiently to be retweeted #
#
# A keen eye is kept on walls and timelines #
# Looking for any illicit activity #
# Patrolled by heavily armed terms and conditions #
# Hoping to police those in this captivity #
#
# A few still have hopes for freedom #
# A chance to give up their logon details #
# But this place has become our home #
# Ask the repeat offender – he tries to stay away but he fails #
#
# We all are prisoners here – of our own creation #
# A few might escape – some remain till they are deceased #
# You can enter at any time that you wish #
# But once inside you may never be released #
#
# Welcome to the place where strangers are buddies #
# Where we lol, lmao and hope to fit in #
# Where we are inmates when we were to be honoured guests #
# Welcome to the hashtag prison #

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I…

I dream
I dream I will awake from this lazy slumber
This dormant volcanic depository of ideas
Spewing ash and sulphur and threating to erupt
Yet in the end it is just a rumble that refuels my fears

I scream
I scream for I yearn to extract this gold mine of words
Excavate and refine them into riches and accessories
Share them wear them with pride of kings and queens
But I remain poor as they disappear like distant memories

I might
Yes I might just explode like a ticking time bomb time elapsed
Disintegrate into million pieces of creative liberty
Destroy the chains abound this mind of mine
Lo I am still just ticking, ticking endlessly

I write
I write my soul to let loose
Ideas to release out of solitary confinement
To roam free like birds of a feather together
Alas I remain a prisoner of my creative consignment

I cry
I cry for I am trapped in a bottomless pit
A hole filled with tears of concepts conceived and aborted
Once a river of joy and creative bliss
Now overflowing with foetuses unborn ideas unreported

I sigh
I sigh a relief of dejection and despair
A realisation of a crossroad between triumph and defeat
That thin line between fantasy and reality
Then to the latter I quietly retreat

Then I hear
I hear a voice speak softly to me
Then I fear
I fear for it is the voice of my soul begging to be set free
Set free to write
Set free to spread my creative wings and take flight