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Prison Son Poems | Prison Poems About Son

These Prison Son poems are examples of Prison poems about Son. These are the best examples of Prison Son poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Arrested for selling Weed

I got in trouble because of my greed.
I was arrested because I sold weed.
I thought I was being smart, I thought that my Grass was well hid.
But the Police found it and I was made to pay the price for what I did.

After I was arrested, my house and land were confiscated.
My family had lived there for generations, I was devastated.
For two centuries, that land was handed down from father to son.
But because of my stupidity, it will no longer be handed to anyone.

When I went to jail, my son went to live with his Aunt.
He no longer looks me in the eyes and I'm ashamed because he can't.
Please don't make the same mistake that I made.
I broke the law and because of what I did, I paid.

(Even though this is a fictional poem, it is a very bad idea to sell Marijuana or other drugs.)

Details | ABC | |

My Life, My Choice

    As I sit here all alone, nothing on t.v. and nobody on
the phone. 

    As crazy as it may sound, my heartbeat is the only
noise around.

    While living here in town, I should just enjoy the 
peace. I often hear in the distance, the sirens of police.

    One man down, the other takes flight. This is the ruins
of another senseless fight.

    A child loses a father, a mother loses a son, all to a
coward who chose to use a gun.

    A void in their hearts no one can fill. Only in time, their
pain will heal.

   As this coward sits to unwind, he's haunted by his past. It's
fresh in his mind.

    As he ponders on the choice he has made, this is one 
memory that will never fade.

    All he could think of was his family and what he's done. His
child loses a father, his mother loses a son...All behind his
choice to use a gun

Details | Rhyme | |


I'm holding in my anger 
Knowing I'd die to be the strangler
Of his sour-little coward-brittle throat 
I'm just mad not literal
But when your dad's a criminal
There's a  minimal amount of father hope
It doesn't bother me no, 
But it keeps haunting me so
I will keep wandering not knowing where to go
No Padre in my home
What an odd-way to be grown
I guess God made me to be alone.
While you and your dad are sittin fishin 
I'm visitin my dad in prison 
My only mission is too inform you what you're not missin 
Because while your parents are laughing and kissin 
I'm starin havin to listen to my dad share his caring "wisdom"