Velvet Bars

March 17, 2010
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my hands seize
the velvety steal bars,
i push with all my strength,
no budge.
no escape.
Death row.

i feel as though i
am in a murky ocean.
shrill waves spin around me
as i am dragged down to the
bottom, into
never ending darkness.
Death row.

“i didn’t do it,”
i remind myself, as though
that would help me in my never-ending agony.
“this is all a mistake”.
i pray, for the first time.
Death row.

some nights, muffled
screams are heard
down below.
men i knew, but
horrible men none the less,
are murdered—in cold blood.
Death row.

my trial is seen
again in court. i don’t
i never see
my mother
Death row.

one shower a week,
one set of clothes—
bright orange—
i can’t sleep
in my smooth, back-breaking bed,
sweat and moisture has
ravaged over the sheets in
my closed cell.
no fresh air.
Death row.

i hear the screams
once again,
they are my screams.
my head now
hangs, on
the wooden gallows.
Death row.

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