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My prison office (new)

That big table that occupied half of my room when they would pack me from home ensuring I do not fall from the window of my armor like car I would enter an office like a prisoner to do things watch empty walls read horrible worlds then back home to fume over any visible soul I have removed everything transformed my room into a workshop to work with freedom than living to tidy my room I want to grow like hulk breaking all the walls around me burning my car into ashes not because it is not running it is that I am imprisoned by it that engine roars in my mind soon I discover some people started knowing me I have many friends now my bare feet feel the dust on earth I want to tear my clothes apart to feel the air on chest my ears are now growing to listen to the silence my eyes to the beautiful my neck tie I have thrown away in the street I beg freedom


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your post...

sweet...that's a chilling image, great word flow. thanks for putting it out there.