That smell,
Wood smoke, 
wafting through my window,
Moving through the docile air,
Still and silent, 

Breathing softly as to not wake the sleeping earth.
Reminiscing on my childhood years,
Not so long ago, 
Yet,
So far.
I miss my innocence,
My love of everything,
A time when the simpler things made me happy.

So different now,
The things that please,
A warm winters kiss, 
A bowl of green herb,
Shining snowflakes encrusting,
It's devouring my life.

The days I would play are those ones I miss most, 
Leave my room at any opportunity I had,
Running free in the open space,
But not now. 

Sitting in my three by three,
Staring at the white walls,
Stale smoke lingers,
The smoke of a life wasted,
Wasted on me. 

I can cry all night long,
But that never helped,
Keep your eyes dry son, men don't cry.

Happiness,
I didn't know it were so hard to ask for,
Something as simple as a hug,
Made impossible by age. 

Nothing touches me now,
Not my pale icy skin,
Nobody dares speak to me,
I'm dark and I'm mean.

But deep down somewhere, 
Is just that little boy,
Seeking his fun,
Seeking the friendship of all he could see.

There is that little boy, 
Crying to be free,
That little boy,
Is deep down inside of me. 



Let me out.