lying quietly in the row
filled with solitude, mayhem and woe
while all too many others simply do not know
suppressed variations in a multitude of grief
fill a mind placed on this earth
submerged in a life so violent and now brief
desperation and doubt put an almost permanent
choke hold on the truth
until it can not be found out
sorely screwed is my so called youth
and mother will never know
as death looms
the alienation continues to fearfully grow
engulfing the damned (which is me)
in what I doubtlessly deserve
a temporarily permanent sentenced seat
on the long line of death row
I suppose IT I will likely have to serve
or go to the big chair
who but me could really care
locked in a cold cell block that back at me
eyelessly stares
alone, just the two of us
I finally break down and cry
Truly who really am I?..................
(May 5, 1994)