A concrete prison

With the walls several stories tall,

And the durability of a bomb shelter.

It's many rooms used to shape you,

Into an ideal human being,

where your childhood dreams are smitten,

within these concrete walls.

In the summer, the outdoor activities will make your skin swelter.

The food, not malleable enough for an animal to chew.

Everywhere you go, the blank faces look without seeing,

Walking along the corridors of this concrete prison.

Unlike other prisons, this one has windows.

Windows without bars or locks.

Then why do we not leave?

There are no shackles to tie us down,

Why don't we run?

We do not escape, why?

Because, this is a prison that we all pay to get into.

This concrete prison, it is not a prison at all.

It may be an institution,

Or a University.

Yes, the concrete prison is College.

Where we are, afterwards, are sent to the penitentiary.

The penitentiary called Life.

When the time is right, we will earn parole certificates,

We call these certificates money.

We save it,

Spend it,

Hoard it,

Waste it.

We use this money to buy things in order to survive parole.

We are not freed from this until we are old,

Old enough to were we can finally afford to be out of the penitentiary.

For good.

And for what little time we have left,

We can breath in and sigh.

For now we are free,

Free of the concrete prison.