He sits and waits, he knows he can,
The walls of time, are all he’s found,
The cage around him, he thinks of rage,
He’s not himself, his mind once said.
It wasn’t long, before he tried,
To harm himself, his wish to die,
The mind inside, is all but fries,
They saved his skin, but not his pride.
He tried to talk, but could not walk,
The life he led, was not so bless,
From young he failed and thought he sailed,
He could not read and grew to hate.
The teens were painful, his life still same,
The love of parents, just wasn’t there,
He grew without love, his heart is torn,
How can we blame him? When here he sits.
But wait and listen, he chose this path,
He’s not in prison, just in the park,
His mind inside him, is what you see,
He’s still a prisoner, within himself.
By Julius Fa