The alarm goes off,
I silence it,
Then I retreat back under the sheets,
I know I should leave,
But the chains springing from my mind hold me down,
The lack of motivation to wake up early to go to prison,
Shackled to a phone in my cell,
My escape routes,
My tunnels,
Chiseled by mouse clicks and word of mouth,
Have yet to yield fruit,
And I sometimes feel like they never will,
One year has passed,
And I worry it will soon be two.