Baskadia

In Prison

In Prison Around me are walls That keep me from leaving. All I see are only corners With no doorways or passage. With nothing around to see But same all things every day, I remember the days Way back when I was free: The walks which I used to hate Because they kept me sweating Under the scorching heat Are one of those I want the most. I miss the loud honking of horns That angry motorists blew As they maneuvered through the crowd Of the never-ending traffic jam! Those beaches that I used to go Wi