Miltamec Soundsquinaez

Awake, with the rest of the world,
a faint feeling of weariness from my neighbors' cells,
but I slovenly drag myself out to
face them along with my other inmates,
dressed in my monday best, orange like the rest,
so as not to encourage any independency,
I sometimes want to break these shackles,
even though it was my choices that put me here,
make my way down to the mess hall, and see the cook,
I nod knowingly at her as she shovels the same gruel on my plate,
very few words exchanged,

After this, it's off to my job, or what these
suits think it is that I'm best at,
but, they've always underrestimated my mind,
I could be the librarian, I could be important,
the joy of this petty work is limited,
the same d.amn thing over and over,
I guess it's worth it for the pay,
trade it in for smokes, and kill myself faster,
at lunch I sit next to inmate Johnson,
he's another sucker, just waiting to get out,
very few words exchanged,

Some days I wish I'd see a riot,
just to remember when we weren't all drones,
people stand tall, and try to scare each other,
that's how we survive in this system,
and the scariest motherf*cker of all,
is the one who will thrive in this system,
but I'm tired of all this fear, I want out,
and beg for the lethal ****tail,
maybe I'll smother myself with my pillow,
because no one in here is free,
and so the day dawns, and we head back to our cells,
with all these people that I wish I cared about,
and very few words exchanged