Every day I walk by,mind seemingly high,only really closed and tight,caught anxiously going rightright round and round.Circling a pool void of light,no matter my might,trapped in a panopticonof my psyche.Three walls enclosed,the fourth open to let insickly rays of thoughts from my jailer.He that I cannot see,only suspect in whispers of dreams,that present he may be, possibly,existing…conceivably.The possibility alone deterring mefrom reaching and expanding out,releasing the bars and walls captivating