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Poverty or prison

Accused of a murder. Sentenced by law.
My defence is quite feeble: “I didn’t mean to”
I really wasn’t surprised to see their frowns.
What do they know of the need to feel alive?

Twenty years to life, that was what I got.
I’ll get paroled in ten if I keep my stories straight.
I’ll exit the jail a lot wiser than when I came.
A network of criminal brains for my aid.

When people ask what’s on my mind;
I quietly shrug and shake my head.
Can I ever explain that it’s the easiest way?
Between poverty and prison pen

I choose the warmest.




Fri vers av Calendula
Läst 368 gånger
Publicerad 2006-04-10 22:25



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