Quarters.

I sometimes continue to exaggerate,
The unknown and to the escaped,
They all look at me with wide eyes,
Bawling out with tormented cries,
I gotta see you again,
I gotta get out of here.

You know what they do in here?
They draw on the walls,
Their fingers are scraped,
Bleeding... that's why,
Cramped up in these tights spaces,
We'll play a game of naughts and crosses,
Put together puzzles of love,
I gotta see you again,
I must get out of here.

Keep my coffin closed,
Shut it tightly locked,
I wanna be alive,
When the darkness surrounds.
Keep my coffin closed,
Nail that lid down,
I don't wanna be alive,
To watch the night arrive.

"Yeah sure."
Keep stating the obvious,
It's a trap,
I know you won't let me out,
But I have to see you again,
It's the most I can do,
Where's the non existent clue?
Your voice rings out again,
And throughout the slow pain,
The flames dance in the rain...

Just try to whisper goodbye,
As the procession continues,
Beyond the streets,
Held in the cheap venues,
It didn't have to end this way,
Every minute is a minute away,
You stole the rights and was sourly sued,
Just know that I'm not in the mood,
We're slamming against the fence,
Atmosphere oh so intense,
Let us out,
Let us out.

--
Please tell me what you think.
I'm not very good at poems, but I do try.
Ty.
=]