Jail Dreams

• Emma Winkler, Grade 6
• Poetry
• 2011

Jail Dreams
I pace back and forth in my concrete cell,
I am blocked off, no one can hear me yell,
I breath in stale air and a strong rusty smell,
All I see is concrete walls,
All I hear is desperate calls,
I think of something else, I paint a picture in my head,
I imagine a scene, like one from a book I read,
There is green, green grass,
Dew from it shines like glass,
There is a winding rippling stream,
I am interrupted from my dream,
go away, go away I scream,
" Your time has come, your going to hell,"
My nightmare takes over, I yell and yell,
I am dragged to a court room, everyone jeers,
The executer comes in, the whole room cheers,
I jolt awake, away from my mind's torture,
I think about all happy things,
In my mind everyone sings,
In my thoughts everyone is perfect and kind
But these things only exist in my mind,
In the real world I am wrongly judged and blamed,
I was tricked, unfairly,I am angry and ashamed,
Another calming image comes into view,
There is more joy than I ever knew,
Pleasure is expressed on everyone's face,
People dancing with beauty and grace,
Everyone each other's best friend,
I would like to stay here till the world's end,
But a voice cuts through the now fading scene,
A loud voice that is snarling, spiteful and mean,
Time is ticking, ticking, ticking, ticking, time is going, time is not on your side,
Time is running and its gonna catch you,You better run fast, you better hide,
I open my eyes, I am back in life's impossible game,
but my mind is in its own jail, I'll never be the same.