winterkumo

Poor man in a glass box It was another day, just like any other. People walked around outside. Smiling happy people, busy people, rushing to and from work. Families, mothers and children. Couples wandered, holding hands and smiling. Young couples, old couples. And, like any other day, they passed me by. I don't know how long I've been trapped in here. I wave at them, calling their names. They can't hear me, but I've listened to them, sometimes. I used to try and get out of here. I used to hit my hands against the walls hoping that they'd break, or that someone would hear me. All I got for all of my efforts was bloody knuckles and broken bon