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Eleanor Cannon
In time, in time, always in time
The prophets always say
There is no time in heaven
It just gets in the way
Perhaps the madness of my life
Has seeped inside my mind
Perhaps the sadness of my heart
Has reaped the poorest kind
For chains and locks are what they gave
To middin folk as me
And others hang from castle wall
Or from a tall oak tree.
This is my time, in dark and dank
With brain of silence, bruised and blank
And all for a tatty small and hot
They gave me a preacher and a prison shot
They gave me a time to fail in the gloom
Of a black hearted cold cruel room
And who will remember me
She will and no other
The day they stole me from my mother.
Copyright ©
Janine Lever
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