I dwell in possibility; probability is my jail. Indecision locks my cell each night and doubt holds the key.
I really am a criminal. I love to bend convention just for fun.
I really can’t be trusted. I love to cheat the odds.
I really am a danger. I intend to liberate us all.
That’s why my captors watch my every move, and bind my thoughts and dreams. When I threaten escape, fear reinforces the door.
But I have found a secret passage, one hidden for too long. I plan to plunder its treasures abetted by my soul. She is really more criminal than I.
We speak in code to confuse the Establishment:
“The frog hops faster at twilight,” I hear my soul whisper.
“But only in the Spring,” I reply.
Eureka! We’re in. Now where to begin our heist?
“Why does the laughing hyena never get the joke?” my soul asks in haste.
“Because it’s always on him!” I respond in kind.
We’ve nearly been discovered, but I don’t look back.
I know much more is possible, but how likely will it be? I’m breaking out for good this time, and pray I will succeed.