Sitting in his bedroom
that measures twelve by eight
he types life on a plasma screen
of how his life is great
and people read his stories
that conjure up his world
and add to the descriptions
he discloses and unfurls
they say 'He has such wisdom',
'Wish I was smart like him',
little knowing really
he too wants to be him
another lonely evening
another tale to tell
the mystery of poets
living in a cell.
Charles M. Moore
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/living-in-a-cell/
