Where Am I?

Orange, black, and white,
Are colors I see day and night.
Dingy uniforms with granny shoes,
Is what the crew provides for you.

The floors are cold,
my numbers are bold.
The smell is awful with,
Sweat and dirty butts.

Who needs to know names when,
Your numbered from head to toe.
Stuck in an extremely small place,
Just makes my poor heart race.

Doors slamming shut,
all over this place.
Live every day in the past,
Like this day will be your last.

Do a crime,
then serve the time.
This place is pure hell,
When trapped in a tiny cell.

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This Poems Story

Just tells a little bit about what a person sees and goes through when in prison or jail.