White walls and narrow halls.
Feet in the shallows, mind at the gallows.

My internal rivals, clergyman handing me Bibles. No indication what it means to be, no sign of what it means to me.

Life passing me by, that burning urge to cry all my life.

I don't want death, I just want breath. Considering what I'm worth to this tiny big Earth.

How about some tea?