Cell-You-Love Poem by Weldon Davis

Cell you like
Cell you love
You'd sell your soul
To get out of that cell
You're in hell because
You're so worried about dying
And going to heaven
Never living
Eyes closed
Put all the blame on society
And ya folks
What a burden
Beg ya pardon
I'm called an idiot often
Excuse me
Exude the poet
Known for fits of coughing
Up common sense
I tell you
Ya not secure
Unless ya sit behind a fence
Watch'n cable T.V.
Sitting in the A.C.
Boo Hoo
The dichotomy of 'Poor Me'
Never admit'n the foolishness
Of you rationality because- - (BE CUZ)
You'd have to admit
That you sit
In that cell you love