The Walls

by Jose Luis Piña
(Baltimore, MD)

These walls are short
but they are too high
for me to climb
I would have to die
they left me in
and all I do is cry
I can see beyond
but can't reach outside
these walls are cruel
they play all day with my mind
I try to hide
but they seem to always find
a way to bind me, in the inside
I know someday, I'll leave these walls behind
but the pain will remain
forever engraved in my mind
these walls surround me
no matter where I am