Cube Life

Hi, my name’s Michael, prisoner 4631.
Serving 20 to life, for shit I shouldn’t have done.
Trapped in a 12 by 12, here on cubicle row.
In the ILIM penitentiary, life goes slow.

My story’s familiar, all much the same.
So I’ll bitch and moan, and apportion some blame.
Starting with a 12 year stint, in some humdrum school
Learning to read and write, while not being cool.

A five year spin, followed quite soon
At the DCU Pen., attached to the nerd platoon.
I had just got out, unburdened and free.
When along came a job, for a man with a degree.

I should of known better, tried to keep my nose clean.
But greed grabbed a hold, like you never have seen.
So here I am, trapped in my cell.
Shit, Cock, Fuck. I silently yell.

Hours tick by, I chalk up the days.
Memories of freedom, all but a haze.
Tied to my desk, these manacles clink.
The monotony for sure, could drive me to drink.

I refuse to despair; I’m going to get out.
To fulfil dreams and ambition, I’m in no doubt.
I’ll dig a tunnel or two, and never be seen.
Hopefully more James Coburn, than Steve McQueen.