Don’t Tie My Hands

It happened one day that I found myself taken
My freedom had vanished, my confidence shaken
Bound, gagged and blindfolded, I had just one demand
“I plead to you, sir. Please don’t tie my hands.”

For if they are bound, how else can I play
The guitar I must touch at least once every day?
My hands must be free to form the right chords
My mouth must be free to sing the right words

I lit into song, my tale I would tell
I sang from my heart in my captive cell
I sang for my rescue, I sang for my life
I sang for my captors to spare me the knife

A note of deep sadness would often escape
My strongest material began to take shape
The days became weeks, became months, became years
The end of it was one of my greatest fears

Then my eyes were opened, I found myself free
For I quickly discovered, my captor was me
The prison I’d fashioned was all in my mind
And it only took time for the muse I would find

Roger D. Linder: FAWM 2014
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