Living Hell.

In my lonely prison cell.
From there a story i will tell.
Born into poverty.
Enslaved i had no liberty.
Worked my child fingers to the bone.
My childish heart turned quickly to cold stone.
In my young teens from my enslaver i ran away.
That was for me a happy day.
Into a big city i did go.
And with the poor there i did flow.
Everyday was as hard as nails.
The sun did shine but for me there was always winters gales.
I did what was needed to survive.
If i didn’t i wouldn’t be alive.
For me life was tough.
For a young boy it ain’t easy living rough.
One night when i was asleep.
On the dirty streets where life is cheap.
An aging man on my sleeping body did approach.
And on my young body his aging body did encroach.
I awoke and smelt his evil stench.
It made my hungry stomach violently wrench.
From my tattered jacket i pulled a knife.
And from his aged body i took its life.
Now i am again enslaved in this prison cell.
Asking why i was born into this life of hell.