The Old Jail
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Nicolas Street Jail, Ottawa, Canada
Now, let me tell you a story.
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The old building is imposing, massive and fearful,
built in 1862 as a jail and gallows for criminals;
today the creepiness remains- turned into a hostel,
one hundred and fifty graves were found on the grounds;
and upper death row cells can be rented for a night.
There are creaking doors and heavy footsteps heard,
wailing and weeping and praying all the night long;
on a dare- I rented a top floor cell with black bars,
I was told the daunting gallows remain not far away;
and went to my bunk, not really believing the stories.
I was found in the morning crumpled and weeping,
talking hysterically about being hanged by decomposed men;
the mental hospital is not much better than that jail was,
where ghosts hang me every single night in the gallows;
now dear, it is just a dream but I am terrified to go to sleep.
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September 30, 2020
Poetry/Narrative/The Old Jail
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1290-558-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Written for the contest, "The Unexplained"
sponsor, Carolyn Devonshire
First Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2020
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