Of Prisoners

My heart is breaking. O why can I not break yours?
My heart is breaking because of prisoners.
O the terrible walls of stone!
O the hours and the months and the days
And Despair!
We laugh; we go our ways,
And they wait in their cells alone.
The cells are of steel and stone.
They sit and stare,
They curse, they weep,
And their souls die.
(O ask not a soul to live without light!)
And we go our ways and work and sleep
And sing, and we see the sky
And count it little thing and cry
“Keep them from our sight!”
For we deem they have done us a wrong.
For a wrong, O what is the price?
Alas, alas, what anguish will suffice?
And how long lasts the payment, how long?
O I dream at night of the iron doors
And my heart is breaking. Why can I not break yours?
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