After a long wait and after too much energy for one night I finally wrote a new poem!!! I eagerly await constructive criticism.
I should have appealed Trevor Brady
I am an innocent man
dressed in assassin black.
Hands are as clean as polished slate.
I walk unknowingly condemned.
I daydream while
my last rights
are being read by a lonely
priest.
I give him a hug
like I would an old friend
(he doesn’t
return the compassion)
I thank him for his time
and assure him that everything
will be alright.
His weathered tan hands rise to
support his leather face
as he turns to tears.
With a hateful smile the
burley black bully of a guard
leads me to the chair/
chamber/
chains…
I thank him for his time
lovingly grip his hand to comfort the sadness
he has yet to feel.
He blankly stares at me
he stabs a needle of burning poison in my heart
(There has
been a recent policy change due
due to prisoner struggle and last second
appeals)
I think I am dead…
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