I'm trapped in a cell
with no escape in sight.
There is no door or window,
just four walls, a ceiling,
and the floor.
The floor is a drab, light brown,
devoid of life, harder than stone.
The wall in front shows the wind
howling like a wolf through bare trees,
sending fallen leaves soaring
like hundreds of tiny, brown birds.
To the left and right are walls drifted over,
the same as a country ditch
after the first snowfall of the year.
Above, there is grayness, a bare sheet
like a sky with no blue left to show.
Sometimes the blue fights to return
but to little avail.
I long to look back
at the wall that I was once behind,
to blue skies and sunlight.
Little is left for me to do.
Time is the key
to this colorless prison.









