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Rianna Wall


I’d like to think that they’d regret their decision

To lock me up

I’d be a pitied celebrity

Released from the jail that he was locked in

For a crime he did not commit

Said the public:

‘Free him, he’s innocent!’

‘Keep him prisoner, he’s guilty!’

The latter seems most likely

Though how should I know? I do not remember

A blur, to me


A dish of bland food

Roughly treated, jostled

That is prison life

I cannot work out whether or not I deserve this

I think that’s the worst part

The mistreatment or the reason?

I’d ponder that, but I have more important things to do

Like count my breaths

Or the number of peas on my plate

I do not differentiate

One day from the next, each hour is forgotten


Visitors? None.

What communication should I,

A lowly criminal, deserve to have?

I think it is best to forget

Trick your mind into oblivion

Going through the motions but never living

But if you do not tell me

Then how can I know?

I am the darkness, not you

Creating shadows in the shade

Of my mind, my own worst enemy

And best friend

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