Sequel Poem by Michael Jenkins

Morning wakes me, another new day
a chance for renewal, for another way to escape my fate.
My senses are heightened, my nerves steeled
awaiting the call of the men
securing my date.
The bandages hurt, but I don't cry
As the minutes pass I merely sigh
at the moment upcoming, it's not too long now
the sweat is increasing across my brow.
The food just sits there, feeling ignored
I look at the plate, silently implore
that I can be released from this ongoing chore.
Alas it's too late, my time's here again
The guys are here, I'm about to be rolled in.