Letter From The Cobra Pt.14

[1.928]

Locked in a box.
 
Blistering cold.
 
Three cement walls and a steel door.
 
You hear how your family misses you.
 
You do not know what tricks your enemies will pull.
 
Completely innocent.
 
But no freedom.
 
Yells and screams are the only music in here.
 
You're given a pencil, paper and a single book.
 
24 hours a day.
 
Everyday.
 
You wake up in the same familiar place.
 
But it could always be worse.
 
Depression isn't real.
 
- Tate

[214]

we gotta break him out 

You Forget A Thousand Things Every Day, Pal. Make Sure This Is One Of 'Em