Shawshank Poem by Nick krakana

The walls are high
And the stone is grey
The sun creeps over
About noon each day

Its time is routine
Where life gets mean
And the razor wire
Has a menacing gleam

Our bodies are theres to keep
Tis when we close our eyes to sleep
We dare to take that freedom leap
Over the wire each soul dose fly

This prison break we do each night
A blessing they cannot erase by sight
However surreal its a treasured might
Keeps one sane in this dingy light

Copyright
Nick Krakana - Timmins