Bad Alone, Worse En-masse
Alone; Cold as Stone, En-masse, hot as Mars.
No Leave, No Pass
All We Can See is an Imagination of the Grass.
In Here is our Class,
At least we’ve learned to Pin Our Ass
Was the Fault his’, Was it hers?
No One Seemed To Have Looked Through the Glass.
The Walls Echo Our Bass zzz!
The Floor hard and the Gates Not Brass.
Days run like fast Cars
And nights lie still like a Lifeless Mattress.
I Put Behind, My Past,
And I Look Beyond The Stars.
A Poem by Bentem Joseph