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…