I’ve stared at the door
Till my eyes have gone sore
Rubbed my nose and I’ve picked it
Rolled it round my fingers and flicked it
And when temper comes I press upon the bell
Sat staring at the walls
Till conjunctivitis in eyeballs
Sat staring at the floor
Watching ants and keeping score
Nothing else to do inside this cell
Like a tiger in a cage
Fighting boredom fighting rage
Like a dog tied to a rope
Chasing his tail but with no hope
Round and round till I’m not feeling well
At three O’clock I’ll use the phone
Just ten minutes for a moan
About prison and seclusion
No rehabilitation just disillusion
If no answer then I’ll stamp my foot and yell
All day laying in a bed
Fighting demons in my head
Fighting terrors in my brain
Going borderline insane
How long will I last who can tell
Might send another letter
But won’t feel any better
Might write another poem
But creative juices just aren’t flowing
Because all I care about is leaving hell
(c) varey 2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem