Jail Bird

JAIL BIRD To U.S. born both wild and free There is no worse place one could be Than in a prison cell for years For most men ‘tis a gruesome fear But to souls in other lands Where freedom’sjust a word that stands On paper-- but an object dead-- With it you cannot bake your bread. In movies in these lands they watch Thugs whose pants fall off their crotch. Who off to court they go-- then jail-- No mention made of tears or bail Third Worlds watch the U.S. cells That should resemble Dante’s hell. Instead they look so germ free clean Like the quarters of a Queen Luxury in killer's cell? How can thieves live-- oh so --well U.S. jail is no bad life-- Well, you might miss someone's wife As one boss of one small store Told me-- as he scrubbed his floor: “Me, I'll fly to U.S. land Kill some guy and live so grand." His tune said joke-- but it was not-- (U.S. TV makes brains rot) But-- twas no secret-- truth could tell He'd snuggle in Obama's cell. Victoria Anderson-Throop © December 1, 2012