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Rated: E · Poetry · Young Adult · #1318517
a continuation from fading of colour
I open my eyes to banging on my cell door
Fellow inmates stand there amusement upon their faces
They hold weapons of mischief in their eager hands
They drag me along laughing like a flock of birds
We sneak up upon our enemies
They feel warm and safe in their dorms
Silently we ghost through the halls
Leaving gifts where ever we go
They would be sorry they ever attacked us
The halls are white with paper, glue and flour
Traps at every door
Smiling a boy leaves a can that seeps smoke

We run back to our beds
Unseen by the jailors
There is an alarm
Then there is shouting
Sleepily we open our doors as the jailors
Run to aid the enemy and receive gifts of their own
You can never take the colour from our eyes I think

We wait for the dawn when the jailors knock on our cells
Questioning questioning questioning
The know it was us but they can never prove
Now we await the dawn
When the enemy attacks
Adding colour to our grey existance
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