At the end of my days I retire to my room <br />A daily routine that I have made since I got here <br />I empty my pockets upon my desk and remove my uniform jacket <br />Throwing my beret upon my bed with a sigh <br />I run a shower in the tight little confines of my bathroom <br />Unlacing my boots and undressing <br /> <br />Once clean it seems like when I reflect on the day <br />It all is a blur to me <br />Every day that I have spent here <br />Doing the same thing day in and out <br />Has no definition between them <br />No dividing line that I can see in my life <br /> <br />I stare at my bare walls of brick, mortar, and plaster <br />The white paint makes me feel sickly <br />Silence piercing my ears like a scream <br />I spend all day with my brothers and sisters <br />Distracted by our work and daily tasks <br />That I fail to remember why I feel so down <br /> <br />It is because I return back to this prison <br />To be in solitude with no joy <br />It drives me to stay away from here <br />To go out and find something better <br />All I want is to be able to relax again <br />To no longer feel alone with no one to love me<br /><br />David Chap Bottoms<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/these-four-empty-walls/
