The Hostel

These thousand rooms are
leaves drooping from branches
twisting into one another,where
windows watch each other and one
wakes up to the knock at the door
of the other, the convenience
of flushing our differences down the
common toilets,letting our quirks lay
dormant during these dormitory years
the consumption of dogmas dished
out in the mess where a thousand mice
gnawed off a monstrous block of cheese
daily,
This panopticon though deserted still
contains in each of its cells a mind
leashed to a machine and when one
knows that this is the only life left
to live and love,it is only obvious
that these released convicts cherish
their jail years,prisoners as they
will always remain to some convention
or other.