May 2013
Oh! Prison box! You hold me no longer!
Tis, by my admission, less than I deserve
But still! White walls! Stretching infinitely stronger,
you have met you match in me! And I shall be gone!
Old enemy of mine,
you are not merely plaster.
Tis, by my admission, less than I deserve
But still! White walls! Stretching infinitely stronger,
you have met you match in me! And I shall be gone!
Old enemy of mine,
you are not merely plaster.
This is one of over 200 poems that I have written in honor of the windowless citadel that I go to to learn. Honestly, there are about 2,700 students in attendance at my high school, and only about 14 windows. It was built in the 70s, and is probably a hulking monster for efficiency's sake.
