Home or Confinement?

when i leave here, i am not walking home, i am walking to a holding cell. a place they put me when ive done thier work, and they no longer have use for me that day. a holding cell like the one they put animals in, thats what  i am to them all, an animal. it is not a home i arrive to, a home is a place of safety, peace, happiness, but here i have no peace, i have no happiness, i have no safety, no safety even in my mind, for it is bullet ridden, shot down like a helicopter during war, engulfed in hellfire, black as night, charred into no more reckognition, no survivors. it is not a home i go to, i will never be home, i will never be safe, one day i will be released from this cell they cage me in, but i will never be home, never safe, i will always carry the burden. i walked down the road today, away from my "work", i heard snare drums snapping, a brass section shows thier talent, a calmness surrounds me, leaves bristle in the wind that numbs my nose, an emptyness fills me, thats when i realized it is not a home i walk to, it is a holding cell, a place they put me away from the light.  i will never be free, there is not a thing i can do, it is not a home i walk to, it is a holding cell. a home is a place for family, for love, for function, here there is chaos, dysfuntion, hate, despise, its all i have here now, pain and suffering, there is only my words that i speak and write, that is what i have here in this prison, but even they will soon perish, my sanity is fleeting, the emptyness fills me, snapping, talent, wind, cold, it was not a home i was walking to, but a holding cell.