Paul F. McCann


They’re locked up in empty rooms – prisoners inside a shell.
Prisoners of their own shadows, they’re locked up in a cell.
The hungry cry with empty guts,
but no one hears that sound
Keys that jangle break the silence with footsteps on the ground.
Prisoners of War.
Someone is dying,
Someone is crying,
A plane overhead is flying.
Don’t give up keep trying.
Hell can be such a lonely place,
some people just pass through.
Some people stay forever.
God, whatever can we do?