no chance in this
hell, snowball
I’ve drudged these
halls
and wept in these
corners for days
it’s mostly cobwebs
and dust,
rusty pieces of pipe
and broken screws,
loose dirt on hard
ground,
smells of mildew and
mould
between the bricks
every now and then
a trickle of water
here,
a feather of sunlight
there –
you need to press your
tongue to the cracks
to really take it in
but as long as you’re
here,
you’re here,
hoping for a chance to
go and play in the grass again
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