THE INMATE

So when do I get parole out of this here dungeon?
Misery is my cellmate; and I can only feed off my pain.
The guard comes and willingly serves another helping.
I can’t see his face as he hurries off; and I’m alone again.
I’m playing it over and over like a scratched CD:
To make the trial fair, I was both judge and jury;
And it was ruled that I’d been wronged,
So why am I the one chained?
If I’m right and I have won,
How come I sense no gain?
Here alone in this cell, I replay the crime;
But preparing for ‘next time’ gives me no peace of mind.
I think of what was said; how I should have said it
But it only makes me feel worse and I just don’t get it.
I can’t drop the charges- the crime rate will rise!
Don’t call it what it’s not: unforgiveness in disguise.
True, it’s neither the first, nor the last offence;
But if I let go now, tell me when it ends!

Then I look around and see I’m the one who is in jail.
I started off the victim, but now I’m needing bail.
Imprisoned by my anger while the offender roams free-
And I’m not looking to leave this place without an apology.
I’m separated from people and things that I love.
Incarcerated in revenge; I can’t appreciate what I have.
All the while, I’m shriveling up inside
Cuz I’m hungry; and the prison food is dry.
I used to count on God’s Word for a square meal;
But the only item on the menu here is how rotten I feel.

I’m tired of serving time for someone else’s misdeed.
It’s hard to let go; but now I’m thinking it’s what I need.
My cell is almost cozy now; but it’s the wrong environment.
The hurt is kinda familiar now; but it’s time to forget
And perhaps, to forgive- I’m shocked the door slides open.
Suddenly, I notice the key I’ve all this time been holding.
I look up to confront the guard who kept me in this place-
Am I surprised to find I’m staring into my own face?