We live in a world
where seven hours
isn't nearly enough sleep
to push you through a day
only push you off the edge
into a downhill spiral
to a crashing thud,
a bump on the head,
the scrape of a knee.
It's all just enough
to feel trapped and confused.
There's no closure in the darkness
you're just blinded by the light
and clanking your pencil
against the prison bars
screams unheard in the night.
Every day you're pulled away
from the home in a home
the pillow in your bedroom
spirits once lifted tear into your chest.
Hearts are broken
bellies starving
finger twitching
towards the sound of false freedom
to bubble through the walls.
In chains and cuffs
we move forward
towards the end
of another beginning
waiting in a world
where seven hours
isn't nearly enough sleep
to push you through a day
only push you off the edge.