" 10B1141"
The sharp clank of
the prison doors,
then the deathly quiet,
leaving only a chill
and sudden emptiness
that screams despair.
You are surrounded by
the pale, lime green walls,
dirt caked windows too
high to see out of, and
steel bars, steel bars
where ever you turn.
You want to scream,
“let me out, I’ll never do
it again”, whatever “it”
might be that landed you
here in the first place.
Inmates stare at you, those
vacant eyes, devoid of hope,
or any expression of humanity.
You look down at your forest
green “uniform”, worn thin by
those who came before you.
The block letters of your new
home, the name faded by
too many washings. Echoes
of furtive conversation suddenly
broken by the harsh commands
of “The Man” twirling his baton,
grinning wolfishly in hopes that
he may find his next victim..........
There is no individuality, no statement
that separates you from someone else.
Your identity has been replaced by
a number, one of many lacking a
past without hope for the future, nothing
but counting down the days and weeks
until the sun shines again in your eyes.