the prisoner

he's taking her away, he's acting like a general, generally his game is so familiar, he wants her to play, with a toaster and a kettle, while he spends his day, miles from the prisoner, she reads the stars he reads the sun, no wonder his iq is below 21, he's helping her to see, how happy she is looking, take it that he'll be, no icing on her cake, o how happy she would be, if someone did the cooking, he's helping her to see, how a marriage can be baked, baked like a cake but without the file, the tool that she needs to make her life worthwhile, she's not a prisoner alone doing time, to love and to cherish for all of her life, to have and to hold, to lock up inside, what can this man know about her heart, to love, till death do us part, he's looking everywhere, she is nowhere to be found, and suddenly he cares, his dinner's looking burnt, there's a smell in the air, there's a prisoner in town, he sits down in his chair, his face fills with concern, concerned that he might not eat tonight, she's broken out of jail and run for her life