Some play with cards, I play with thoughts. To some this
Is a vacation, three hots and a cot? Surrounded by
Walls this isn’t another game. I hate to leave this place
Exactly the same. I’m tired of this life, I’m ready to move on,
Being in this place I think my mind is gone.
Tired of the stories of how you got most of what I hear is just another
Lie. Years of addiction I pray it gets better. Tired of waiting
For some family letter. I doubt your sincerity I doubt that you care.
It no longer matters if life is fair.
by, Lorraine Beemer