I came across him,
rubbish and debris encircling
him like a garbage cloud,
sitting cross legged,
muttering and rocking, dribbles
of spit dangling off the sides
of his lips, spoke words I'd
declare arcane.

In the center of somewhat
of a pure white, bright
metal cage, he'd often kick
a bar, bark at the open space
or twirl a key dangling from his
neck, running his dirty fingers
up and down the shaft.

Twelve feet by twelve feet had
to be the dimensions of his home.
His torture, his insufferable misery.
My foot steps quieted his musings,
weary eyes meeting mine, me, this traveler,
journeyer, a voyage across time and
lands for understanding.

"Help me, noble sir, help me, please.
Release me from this insufferable
torment, free me, find a way out!"
His cries, so desperate, his pain,
very evident; devise a plan, devise a plan
I must to assist such a noble human.

  We all have rights, the Greeks
  debated on this, the Romans conquered
  such thinking, and I, I shall promote it.

Searching, prodding, looking about
yielded no fruitful hope, no possible
salvation. "Try, you must! Help
this downtrodden lad live life to the full!"
His cries brought a tear to
my arid eyes.

Through it, clarity shone forth,
the lock on the wretched cage
seeming to match the key he exactly
held within his hands.

"Pray tell, dear sir, the key that
wraps around your neck so,
the one you fondle with your fingers;
perchance that might work the lock undone?"
I ventured the only offer of freedom I
could conjure up.

"Well, yes, of course it opens the
lock. But what I need is a way out of
this insufferable metallic beast!"
he retorted. "Have you not been listening?"

"I do not understand," I began again.
"If the key opens the lock, why not use it?"

The man looked at the key in his hand
for quite some time, slowly raising
a blank stare and asked so genuinely,
"Why ever would I do that?"