Prisons Unhappy Stays
I never realized what jail meant when I was young
prison’s unhappy stay is much longer, my hands are wrung
I was tired of these walls before I was placed, it’s been years now
have lost track of friends and family, my day’s excitement? Chow
from this window I see very little, a tree I think is oak
I have shouted at occasional people, most have not spoke
there is a robin that hops around a bit, of course she is free
Much better life she has than little old sad me.
Yesterday I saw a woman in a business suit walk by.
She did not glance my way, or even try.
She looks like the woman I wish I had met before I did wrong.
I lie in this bunk, singing a poor me song.
My days are dreary, there is no fresh air to talk about.
They say they’ll let me have a break, but I am rarely out.
Prison is a horrible experience I wish on no one, not even an enemy.
The sadness and loneliness make me wish to be set free.
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