what is a paper without lines
these sullen faces show no decline
     or any remorse for their action

     im not a poet if I cannot write
     about these tragic spiritual beings in my sight
          you, beautiful devil, are my inspiration

               this square paper and these four walls
               so whitewashed with ambitions so tall
                    holding my pen like I wanna hug my freedom

the silence is suffocating
nails on the chalkboard, mandating
     every thought in this epitome of a prison

         the clock is tick tick ticking down
         tick tick ticking without a sound
               the boredom gaining excellent momentum

                   I ran out of ink, ill have to use blood
                   im running out of sanity, 6 feet under the mud
                          I guess that would mean that I am done