Freedom in the cold cell was built,
For him who controlled himself,
And the cold walls of self pity,
Did not close in,
But grew until there was freedom,
Freedom in a small place.

The feeling of love within,
Wiped out all feeling of anger,
And sadness was gone
Yet sadness was all around,
The love was strong but one way focused,
And feelings of sadness drew him,
To silence, and not a word,
Was whispered or spoken to any person.

She was lonely now and although,
The wall was weaker it was not broken,
The sight was death to him,
And yet he could not give comfort,
She was a flower wilting needing water,
That was close enough to touch yet,
Miles away from reach.

The sight of her in pain,
Broke away the walls,
And rejection was no longer a worry.
He comforted her without obligation,
And yet she was near to him,
Love was always there yet hid itself,
Away from sight and yet in open view.
They were nearly separated,
Due to the breakdown,
And love was not lost in the end.

Lloyd McLean (1990)
 

This poem was written in response to a story or movie, although I can't for the life of me remember what it was!

This poem is part of the Horses and Things collection