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Prison
June 1, 2009
I’ve heard of a palace
Where many people live,
Where all you have to do is take,
You never have to give.
The floors are always polished,
The brick walls painted white.
The turrets that rise above all else
Glimmer in the light.
There’s a dining hall in the center,
That gives three meals a day.
The people get free clothes and beds,
Not a dime they have to pay.
And when coming to this palace
You don’t take your children or your wife,
The only thing you have to take
Is another person’s life.
So why we pay our hard earned cash
For a murderers TV,
And food, and bed, and shelter
Makes little sense to me.
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This article has 4 comments.
Whisper said...
on Sep. 11 2009 at 5:09 pm
This Is a really good Poem.I like it. My Dad was In prison so he knows how it feels.
3 articles 0 photos 4 comments
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