Wednesday Evening

by Val Mischka

Wednesday Evening Thoughts


I try to concentrate,

But I fail miserably.

All I think about is last night at 11:15, when you said “you should leave,”

And so I did.


I followed your orders,

I was the prisoner to your guardsman.

My life,

Is spent within a box with only three holes at the top.


Death at this point wouldn’t even faze me, for,

I am sick of having no escape.