You just can't reach some men,
maybe some men
are too cold to be reached

Too set in
their ways, haunted
by their

Hearts, left open
and beating
whispering,
sometimes
shouting

Trying to say
"Save yourself

I've never been
a real bother
to anyone."

Well
maybe a few,
but just like the guard
the warden
the prisoner

We all get our chance
to be heard
and more often than not

misheard,
mistaken,
Our syntax
swept along and emptied
into the waste basket
like we're some kind of mess
left for someone else to
clean.