Just something I did after drawing a picture of a jail cell.


1. Locked

          I had a good life, shame I slipped up. I just got so angry. But anger does that to you, you know. Screws up your life. Take it from me, control your anger. Its horrible here. The beds, the dull, grey concrete cells. And the bars. The windows into the outside world, cruelly showing us how great our lives would be if we had just controlled our fury.

          I better get some rest: I need all the energy I can get if I want to survive eight hours of awful drills and gruel. See you out there in the good life in nineteen years and three hundred and fifty-four days.

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