Protection From Words

     As I sit here in incarceration reflecting upon my crime, I have done no wrong and my slate is as white as snow.

     For saving and defending a close friend whose painful tears flood the floor, I rushed quickly to her aid I couldn't take any more.
Now I sit here in prison as
The real criminals roam free
Where is the justice for the hero?
We should let him rot and leave him be
I am a guy who did the right thing for a friend
But as a prisoner, no one will listen to me.

     I hate this school for the way they easily forget those they have wronged and leave them to drown in sorrow whether guilty or not.  The overwhelming dread of what's to come consumes even the purest of souls and they in consequence eventually succumb to guilt over nothing at all.  That is how we are interrogated and that is how we become lab rats for their enjoyment.

I may die cursed and consumed with hatred for those who have cruelly wronged me on the inside and decay with mold on the out but, I refuse to let the sorrow of this dark and cold dungeon be oppressed upon me like the guards are ordered to enforce. I will break free and I will return to life as it was before I became a broken shell of my former self.

The chilled air

The stench of old man musk with dry mold floating above it

The grunts and groans of men as they rattle their chains for a comfortable position

In the long agonizing wait
Among their bleak and doomed fate

I'm sending a message of hope.