The walls haunt you, mock you,
Poke fun at your mere existence;
The dull beige color used to hold hope for you,
It used to hold comfort.
No matters what horrors were faced on the street,
The beige would be there to welcome you home.
You knew that, and you could rest easy
With that thought firm in your mind.
Then the walls began to remind you
That there was more to life than the comfort
Of what had already been discovered;
They were reminders of your hopes,
And your dreams to escape the boundaries
That you had been forced into.
There would be a time where you could
Free the shackles that restrict you to
The beige with white trim,
A time that you desperately hoped for.
But now the walls,
Still beige with white trim,
Your time to get away is running out
And you know that you’re never going to make it.
You remember the days when the walls
Were kind to you, or held hopes for you;
But now you’re sitting in the center of the room
And the beige is closing in.