A Childs Prison Poem by playdough person

far, far in my mind
these memories, they fight
push through push through
but those to listen have no clue
funny how little things
can take u places again
revisit times
that are better lost, that no one should have to find
overwelming smells
reminds me of my moms makeshift jail
blind eyes were turned
and in return their hearts hurt
left in rooms
no water no food
overpowering smells of poop
and still no one could free us from those rooms
filthy from head to toe
they try and free us so we could go
minutes to hours, and hours to days
we would sit and play
no beds
for us to lay our heads
one small chair
is all that three would share
metal springs
puniments, fit for kings
alone we sat, with eyes screaming please
so many stories
the things that have formed me
more will me told
once i release them from my vault....