I sit here in the darkness of my cell.
All around me the smell is stale.
If this can happen to me in jail.
Than it could happen to you as well.
Chains rattling,steel doors banging,racking my brain.
I wonder sometimes,if I will ever be the same.
Silent screems I cry out in the night.
There is no end to this nightmare in sight.
Sometimes I sit and I just stare.
My mind racing to and fro,going nowhere.
Men sit around and just don't care.
That my friend is truly despair.
Whenever I think there might be a ray of hope
I go before the parole board and they say nope.
Down this path I travel along.
It's like being in the mist of the
twighlight zone.
Being in jail,is like being in a tomb.
Don't plan on going home anytime soon.
I see things from my cell.
Ratting and betrayal is alive and well.
Stalking shadows stand lurking about.
Their shady character is menacing no doubt.
If you fail to watch out for just a while,
Your life could be snuffed out prison style.
I'm thinking about all the time I've wasted.
There's life out there I've never tasted.
A word to the wise don't get caught
upin the system,
Or you could wind up here in prison.
In here they play a lot of mind games.
But your mind is one thing,they can't
shackle and chain.
Arthur Collins
Birth sign: Not entered
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Bill Kuenzel.