Sunshine13

a stone in a pocket with words on it,

the street number of a former life,

a scar on my face and an orange jumpsuit, the injustice of the life I came into,

a tattoo on my arms of skulls and thorns, and cold bars without emotions and words, and only a stone in a pocket with words on it, Sunny Thirteenth, a frozen spring where a broken soul silently hid......

And the scar on my face hurts quietly like a road that rolled away in an instant, on cold bunks I am pale as death, a quiet sigh, my eyes are fixed.

And only my street is a street where the lost spring is lonely and scary, and a quiet soul in it that has not found peace.........