The Prison

I want to get out of my head
I want to wake upon my bed
Not chained to steel instead
In my mind I have fled

I want to breathe the city stench
And sit on a cold wet street bench
Rather than be tied like a wench
To this cell with thirst to quench

I want to walk with frozen feet
And feel the blisters burn with heat
Not to crouch here in defeat
Becoming ever more petite

I want to crawl, hands and knees
Threw the thorns and blackberries
Not lay here for the sake of these
Who’d watch me wither and disease

I want to fight my way through
My wrists will bleed anew
But the prison lock held true
I did not make it, my mind withdrew