Stagnant

[ISawASpaceship]

Wandering the long grey corridors.
Bars reaching high up into heavens arches.
The stolid men that stare dispondantly onward.
The security guard that marches.

The old corner where I sat.
The old lunchroom where I ate.
The old friend still in cell.
The old warden that I hate.

Inside the air is stagnant and shines in the blinding light,
etched into memory forever,
in a prison I visit every night.

Every inmate is silent.
I ask for directions to leave.
Just blank stares and faces.
Resigned to staring at the floor.

Wandering solomnly as it grows more dim and grey.
I didn't commit the crimes that put me here but that won't lessen my stay.
I plead with the men to help me escape.
So I shamble further into the maze with no end in sight.
The walls echo off my cries.
Until I wake in the middle of the night.

I like the vivid imagery of a mental prison. I think most people, at some point in their lives, can relate.