A Convicts Cry

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Family
This is a poem about the thoughts of a convict.

Submitted: September 28, 2018

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Submitted: September 28, 2018

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Alone here I sit behind these stone walls. Bowing my head as my conscience calls. Remembering a time was good, and we partied all we could. The men were fine and the dope was as good as free. With fast cars and money we were bold as can be. But as quick as it came it all fell in a flash. The cops came in and busted our ass. The cuffed us all and took us to jail. With a parole hold we could get no bail. So incustody we sat sweating the phone. Calling collect bit there was nobody home. What happend to all those guys and all of my friends? I guess when your busted all that shit ends. So infront of the judge I pleaded my case. With my public pretender who laughed in my face. He said that I was a threat to society. So he would put me away where he would know where I would be. Away from the public and all of my peers. Behind these stone walls for at least ten years. So with one last look and a smile. I strolled out of the courtroom with pride and style. Back to my tank and my awaiting bed. I grabbed my pillow and buried my head. All that was left was to catch the state chain. Back up to state I'll start over again.


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