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A false impression

By , Davisburg, MI

Corroded iron bars lace the two foot concrete,
engulfing everything within,
even the disease riddled rats. 
The bunks are built on a ill fitting teal frame
paint nearly scratched off.

This is my humble abode,  it's quite spacious
And very well designed,
I didn't believe it at first but it truly is a fortress,
So impenetrable that my family can’t visit, call, or write.

I have one pair of pants and one shirt
They camouflage with the walls.

Though I have no need to hide,
People feared me before I even arrived.
Heads down, and frightened
as if I cursed the ground I walked on.

I try to send letters out -
but they always come back.
The red ink stamp on the return package
Right over my home address.

However I must confess
There's no surprises anymore






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