The Innocent Man Sits

February 25, 2008
By
The Innocent man sits
Eight by twelve, Bars locked, No escape
Cold, scared, desperately alone.
Tortured by letters from home,
Letters that fade away,
Letters that come less
"Who believes me anymore?"
He whispers to himself
"Anyone?"
Breathing deeply.
Despair coupled with fear,
Destroy his soul, his body, his mind.
This world has turned its back on him
His voice lost with the guilty.
Tears slowly begin to fall, Pooling at his feet.
Justice has dealt her cards, Played her game
Her cruel decision laid upon his hands.
Carefully standing, the room spinning
Everything is gone, Nothing is left
Knowing: True pure innocence
It can not help, will not help
Adrenaline pumping calming his nerves: Confidence
Justice and fate: Intertwined
A decision: Life or death
Time stands still as he weighs his options
Take fate into his own hands?
Breathing deeper
His last breath, A life stolen, Gone
Justice and fate: A decision intertwined in life and death





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