I, The Breather Poem by Andrus Cassian

Trapped, confined in an acute establishment, a minor prison
filled with caramel desks and single colored painted walls
Sunlight is unavailable, a myth
amusement and talking are forbidden
only blinding ceiling lights and a cold winter wind lingers on
simulating a haunting of sorts
I find myself actively, actually counting
every second, minute, hour
till the bell sounds the end of the day
I can't begin to explain how much I've had enough
I want to be on my way, another day like this I cannot take
for even I, the breather am nothing but a loner in here
These gazes falling upon me, I can live without
The murmurs and whispers surrounding, give it up, they mean nothing
fourteen minutes left, fourteen brings back so many memories
but time, press fast forward
I'm sick of life going so slowly
since I feel like I'm floating on an ocean, isolated