Listen to this poem

The Prisoner

At times in the quiet when I can think,
And my mind is able to roam,
I live in a world where I am free;
A world that becomes my own.

I travel around, I go where I want,
And everyone leaves me alone,
For once I am free to do as I please,
As free as a rolling stone.

Then sound rushes in and I look all around,
There's a warden and uniformed men,
I remember what happened and know what I've done,
And I'm back in this prison again.

by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul