Untitled Poem Two

Confined to a hole in the stone wall

There’s too many offenders on this wall

Wasting my existence in sally ports

The horde are escorted

Single file they said

Stop talking they said

You can’t go home they said

I’m low on flags

During the light hours all the bloodthirsty merge



Preaching, complaining, gambling

Problem Child foresees yet I’m impecunious

The observers are watching us of course

There’s measures for protection

But nobody outside cares

The sharp pain in my side


On the ground leaking

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