Living poor

The countdown begins, 1 week to go
Movin' into a little jail cell called home
Not even a tiny space to call my own
No bars just a white wall
No place to escape
Maybe I'll crawl under my bed
I know it's no use-
for the reds voice will echo through the room 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this 2 years ago during some bad times in my life. I was a college student being forced to move into a studio apartment with my mentally unstable mother.

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