I'm being consumed by life wasting.
Not doing anything
between the four symmetrical walls
of my life.

Oh, workers! Bring your tools!
let my bars and roof fall,
let air move my blood,
let sun burn my shoulders.

I am twenty first century iniquity
I spend my day invisible, lifeless
watching from my cell window,
how a branch moves.
My spirit burns and I'm watching it's flame
with the same indifference with which
I contemplate that branch.

You, passing by, don't mock me,
My soul shouts it's crime out loud,
yours hides under it's words


Written By:  Robert Newson