Great poem on Pedestal.
I dream in ways
my mouth cannot articulate
in ways my hands refuse to write
I am a prisoner inside
and there are bars
the world will never break
because they are made from fear
of death and losing all that
I have hid inside them
for so long.
The Midnight Writer 
Static
As if chains
Could bind
The rage inside
Or hide
The fear in your eyes
I speak soft words
That reek
Of frustration
Leaving a taste
On the tongue
One can’t quite place
Let’s face it
Chained or unrestrained
This simple fact remains
Everything would stay
The same
If nothing changed
Zig’20’
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