Trapped.
A cold damp cell to sleep.
Alone.
In dark silence I weep.
Tired.
Nightmare dreams do seep.
Silenced.
I dare not make a peep.
Afraid.
Of what I’m soon to reap.
Wicked.
My chastisements steep.
Waiting.
Heart begins to leap.
Doomed.
Closer, shadow does creep.
Scorned.
Sentenced as below cheap.
Forsaken.
In entombed dirt heap.
Terrified.
Shivering in nights’ deep.
K. Aldaya, 10/11/04
Picture: Photographer Unknown; http://baseballfordinner.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/creepy-michigan-basement.jpg
My Soul is a Lock Without a Key 
