Prison

As you ride down the avenues and boulevards you can see the chain-linked fences and barred windows.

The neighborhood loses it's charm.
And you wonder if those are houses or prisons.

They're neither.

They're little sanctioned off sanctuaries.

The world is a prison
And we all do what we have to til our time is up.

There are those scared to leave their cells
Staying inside as much as possible
Peeping out through their curtains.
Getting what little view they can of things.

You can't expect anything from those here
Only a swift, strong stab in the back
And a 'fuck you' as you're pushed to the ground

Most here are idiots
Self-worshippers
Indulgence chasers who leave more loose ends then stepped-on shoelaces

They'll never get it
They'll just wander the yard
Doing whatever they can

Until they pull a trick on the wrong lifer
And are beat to death

Hoping, as he pummels them
That they'll learn something from this before they die.

But, as the scoreboard shows, little can be learned by those so ignorant of sacred idols and death.