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It’s almost over.
What a wonderful feeling,
To almost feel free.
Instead they still hold us captive.
We are burdened to finish the rest of our lives in here.
Until our sentence is due, we have to stay.
Too bad life doesn’t fast forward.
But then again the wonderful moments,
Will not be moments.
The prison walls haunt us in our dreams,
The numbers in our books hold us down like shackles.
The words on our papers feel overwhelming and useless.
No wonder people develop the habit of laziness.
Twenty days, four hours, and twenty-two minutes.
That is how long I have until I am released.
I am free from the square that has become my home.
I can see the fields of grass, and the sparkling ocean already.
Taste the sugar from chocolate ice cream, and smell the food on the grill.
I will relish in the two month that I am free.
Then I am on probation for the next four years.
Sweet freedom is now somewhat sour in the end.