Life on the Inside

In a box with
padded sides
A gaunt man
sits in the corner
Whimpering and knocking
his head

     Where is north in relation to me
     How do I get to where I'm supposed to be

His arms are numb
because the jacked is too tight
His beard is old and gray
because blades aren't allowed

     I've lost my way on this twisted path
     Life has turned my heart's fire to ash

Screaming, spit flies
from his mouth and
gets caught on his
long whiskers like
dew on a leaf

     In the free world rooms have windows
     And the sun shines bright, with nowhere to go