this tent is like a prison cell
nowhere to go
no room to walk
no escape from the ignorant voices
that fill the night
no sleep
the night patrol parades around
looking for someone to talk to
to wake up
to take away the tedium
of nightshift
no light, no sunlight
to stream through no windows
only the non-adjoining cell-blocks
outside
this tent is like a prison cell
it makes me appreciate the home bed
and eight hours sleep
with no morning hour to keep
and leisurely days
with the homefire burning
at the least hint of cold
there’s nothing like discomfort
to make one aware of selfishness
and good providence
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