My life becomes a living hell, a means of madness in a cell; thoughts racing through my mind as I’m sitting through the sands of time.
Life is but a long lost dream that passes by as you scream little left in which to cling but hope for what the morrow may bring.
Hate, resentment, bitterness thrives through this mass of change cup lives pent up rage given false hope in some for of jailhouse dope battles buzzers, shots ring out, that’s part of what this life’s about we are but choices for the feast in the belly of the beast.
Written by R.N. Miller
