The Prisoner
** A protest against the hypocrisy of the death penalty and the decadent environment of the prison system where a simple thief or criminal is unleashed on society upon leaving worse than they went in**
The days are short and gentle
in the pillow of truth;
gentle like rain-fallen feathers,
yet the gallows bleed
and the hangman smiles
at justice unjust,
and his lazy solution:
that death brings life
Death, brings life
to the children of judgment ---
life, then death
and prison be not cruel enough ---
awash to the brim,
undeterred ---- by the hangman's promise
Like a rat the prisoner awaits
in a cell built by cruelty
and fear ---
that our most precious things
be stolen by mere hands
By mere hands we have built this place;
shackle, lock and bar,
cold, with empty promises
and rigid worry
and desolate hope ---
we esteem the prisoner shall not return,
though his soul is filled with tears;
and the day seeming not his friend ---
alone,
the night speaks to him
yet he knows that day will come again
Who are we to poison hope?
Who are we to celebrate the pain of another?
Is this not the very thing we punish?
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