I'M At the End of My Rope

(This is a fictional poem) I'm in jail because my son stopped going to school. My cellmate is smelly and I'm fed nothing but gruel. I'm very depressed and I'm at the end of my rope. I've been begging my cellmate to take a bath and use some soap. My son is proud of himself and he brags because he's never cried. But that will change when I get out of here and tan his hide.