" 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Your identity has been replaced by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.