top of page

A Poetic Sentence

Dream of a future where concrete imprisons your window, realise that life is your crime,

hear the damp whistle of the jailer leaving by his own door, smell the cramped air of your

mouth, breathe in and allow the belt to tighten another notch, feel the scathing scratch of the

rope around your neck, remember the smile of a summer school day, understand your memories have stayed young, while your name has grown old.

Copyright ©2020  All Rights Reserved

bottom of page