Often I try to self-reflect which turns into waves of rings around me. This picture reflects my days in general; life is static, surrounded by waves around.

The cage stands bold, with its steel-clad mesh. For within its grip, it’s us it holds. Ten foot walls, of cold creme concrete. For outside we muster, like horses in stalls.

I know you think you’re broken far too much to ever heal properly, like all those other folk that make life seem so real.

“The colours of the rainbow so pretty in the sky." The colours of my jocks lying, on a bench. Uncovered by shutters. Unarmed waiting snakes.