hands tied — behind my back,
swinging loose, but purposeless
my footfalls are hamster wheels,
same tread ground, around and around
nowhere.
like Hades, no trees,
only bare bones and screams
no roses, no moon, no suns
solitary.
my soul – detached from humanity
it turns, it burns
Viktor Frankl, no meaning.
without substance, no purpose
foggy, abstract,
darkness pervades
save for gray walls and steel
Life is a blur; no dates, no meaningful moments
bland, like bread, like red rivulets
burning a hole in the head of the soul
mind-numbing monotony,
malnourished group hink, recycled air,
oppressive air
suffocating
is what prison feels like.
Dortell Williams is pursuing a BA in communications. He has dedicated his life toward mentoring youth and helping survivors of crime. You may find other works of his via Google search. He appreciates feedback from his readers and invites outside assistance. He may be reached indirectly at Dortell Williams, H-45771/A5-204, P.O. Box 4430, Lancaster, CA 93539
