Passively sitting between the walls of control,
Controlling my movement, keeping me from the places I need to go.
Trying my best to write and not listen to what they say,
Futile conversations seems to be all they know,
Having flashbacks of a destructive life-which puts a “smile” on their faces.
When will they learn,
When will they “tire” of the pressure of the walls controlling them.
This is not the life, I choose to live,
It happens to be a part of my past that refuses to let go of my present.
Until these walls of control no longer controls me,
So I sit, think, and write about whatever comes to mind,
For some reason my thoughts are occupied with the walls and the people who are
Entertained by them.
I yell in silence, to anyone who would listen,
anyone who would dare hope to see
The light of freedom beyond the walls that surrounds their mind.