4 walls
sitting in this room
four cold cement walls
reflecting on the past
the time of my fall.
Born into regulations
of what I should be
how I should dress
and what’s best for me.
The numbers get higher
more pressure and burden
old violence and greed
made this path certain.
Forged into their heads
the seeds of evil past
the glory of a winner
the humility of last.
The false honor of money
all that power and fame
staring at these walls
that all look the same.
Why all these faults
we should have it right
with all the blood spilled
on the darkest of nights.
All the misguided people
corrupt inside their mind
I pray for all of you
in this room wasting time.
shannon apollo 