I wake up,with a yawn
To Another daybreak, another dawn,
Nothing has changed,
I am still in my striped shirt,shackled
Resting my head against the cold iron bars,
The smell of rust, and dried blood,
Whispering me many a tale,
Of lives gone stale.
Graffiti adorns the wall,
Not with paints of joy,
But with blood, and excrements.
The shackles pain,
I try to escape, but in vain.
The harder I try, the more I am entwined,
Trapped, like in a quicksand,
Or a never ending maze.
The only view of the world outside,
Is a window.
A window, to hope.
A window,to dream.
I see birds chirping happily,
Oblivious to the humans caged beneath them.
If only they knew what they had,
what I don’t
what I long for,