PARALYZED

There's nothing wrong with my brains,
Muscles, nerves, intelligence, equilibrium;
So why do I have to live in chains,
Like slave statues standing in a museum?

To have eyes and not see,
To have feet and not walk,
That's my disgraceful destiny:
To live within a door that will never unlock.

Post these in the User Submitted Poetry forum and you will probably get some responses.

Les