I sit alone,
four white walls my only company,
with only forgotten memories
as my friends.
When I lay down and forget the world,
and wish for the power of speech
as I sing my soul in solitude,
the walls do not listen, merely echo
my dying voice back.
I wait to tell the story
to my own personal savior,
but they won’t listen, and don’t know
my voice is reaching their ears.
As my voice fades,
I notice the single exit,
but it’s not a door.
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