PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Sitting in the 4 dark cubic form,

blood to my chest,

slave of my own mind,

resting for a while,

ready to continue my day to day schedule,

is time to rise up,

begin to kick and punch,

but the flesh of my knuckles are slowly been pilled off,

you can see the nerves crossing my hands,

hands shivering with coldness and pain,

knees swollen for the contact with the walls,

toes hurting do to the kicks,

I scream and shout let me get out,

but no one is here I am alone,

I wonder many things so confuse in deed,

why am I here,

and not over there,

how come the sun was shinning and now it hides,

I thought my blood was red now I know is black,

but a course I do cause this cubic sees no light,

I am trying so hard to get out,

but this day I guess I wont,

cause I still am here today,

time to rest for a little while,

I sit in the same position every resting time,

now the blood reaches my neck,

hopefully tomorrow will be the day I escape,

cause if I dont

in my own blood I will drown!

But I am trying