almost out

i've been moving
rocks all year,
swinging that heavy
hammer all day,
breaking them in
the hot sun, stacking
them, hauling them
in a wheel barrow
from one pile to
another. and it's
pointless.
and the guard with
his weapon on the
wall, watches and
laughs, his dog
by his side, barking,
waiting for a chance.
and more rocks are
brought in to be
turned into dust,
into gravel. but i
know there will be
an end to this, that
i will get out soon,
and that it's just
a matter of time. she
can't keep me
here forever.