Cement Hall

May 17, 2012
In this cold cell I’ve been locked up by people they say they care,
I guess they don’t.
There’s water dripping from the ceiling,
Covering the floor.
Down the cement hall is an object.
The heavy metal bar door sealing me in from the world opened.
Making my way down the way the object became clear as crystal,
It was my heart,
Bleeding out.
The only thing I can do is stand there in pain.

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