Sasha Hazard

School: Jordanhill School, Glasgow
 

The Prison


The clanging of the hall
The building three stories tall
Empty shouts, twisted pleas
Secluded with a cluster of trees 

Clumps of food
To suit the mood
We’ve lost all sense
Our bodies are tense 

Gurgle of the pipes below
Lightbulbs with a tinny glow
Crusted paint on the bed
The floor is a linoleum red 

New inmates spark surprise
The guards insist it’s all lies
Our mouths develop a sour taste
Desserts are eaten with haste

When the others were at their primes
They all committed terrible crimes
But I have been
wrongly judged.

 

 

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