My Cell
Come into my cell. Make yourself at home.
It’s not much,
It’s got a bed,
A toilet too,
and that’s the tour,
That’s where I’ll be,
20 to life,
Not that hard to find me.
So come into my cell,
Make yourself at home.
I’m sorry,
If I knew you were coming,
I would have tidied up.
Come into my cell,
With all it’s blues and grays,
Tally marks on the wall,
From people who couldn’t stay.
I know that it’s a mess,
It’s got some grime and dirt,
But of course this is a prison cell,
Not the taj mahal.
A Dress
All this happened, more or less.
I admit,
MY life’s a mess,
All This happened more or less,
All because I bought a dress.
It was blue with purple stripes,
When I put it on I yelled ‘Yipes’
The hem was warping,
The sleeves were askew,
WHy did this happen,
Why, I ask you!
What’s Out There
He came home. Said nothing.
Click,
He turned the TV on.
Wordlessly,
I make dinner for him.
His favorite.
Like always.
He watches.
I cook.
I look out,
Through the window,
Wondering
what’s out there.
He grunts,
I put his coat away.
Dinners ready.
I set the table,
I serve him,
We eat,
Wordlessly.
He stands up.
Walks away,
I clean,
He watches TV.
Next morning,
I wake up,
Iron his clothes.
Look through the window,
Wondering,
what’s out there.
He wakes up.
I make his breakfast,
And his lunch,
I cook.
He watches TV.
I look through the window,
Wondering,
What’s out there.
He leaves, I clean.
I look through the window,
Wondering,
Whats out there.
