Everywhere I walk someone else uses a rusty key to go through
The Gates of Hell
And I’ve aged with all the rusty keys slowly dying in my prison cell
My once lovely brown eyes have turned pitch black like the darkest stone
For I’m hurting inside, the pain deep within my every last bone
I sit in a six-sided box, 259 cinder blocks encased to hold me physically captured.
In my isolation, my 2 windows offer 2 different views.
1 for the inside and the cells don’t change, only the occupants face.
And 1 for the outside where the scene doesn’t change, only seasons, night and day.
All this wasted time in a federal prison
I didn’t take the cotton out my ears and put it in my ears and listen
This isn’t the way to spend life, I won’t do this anymore
I’m still young and there’s a lot of positive things I haven’t done before
I’m known on a last name basis
In a place
Where numbers come with faces
Will you ever know me
On a first name basis?
More than the name I mean
I’m more than a criminal, you see
I once had dreams