Dungeon

A dark damp dungeon

Our little two-room abode

Heavy brick walls

So damp and cold

Just like a dark damp dungeon

We sit there day after day

Pining for only one thing

The day we will be released

From this strange prison state

We wile away the hours

As the sun drifts by overhead

And the shadows creep slowly

Through the bars

From side to side

Occasionally we stir

To cook, to clean, to laugh and complain

To kill mosquitoes, flies, and centipedes

And then we settle back down again

To wait, wait, wait

The minutes through

So many days on the calendar yet to go

So long is seems

Unending

And I ponder our life

And wonder what I ever did

To deserve this kind of fate