How strange that they
who incarcerate me
and shame me as a dog
should tomorrow do what I had done
and yet not feel remorse?
Why should I die?
I killed, I know, I had a cause
but so have they; they claim
that scum like me should be removed
my life be wrenched from me.
How cold the thought
that tomorrow I should be dead.
I will fight the hangman there
or will they have denied me
self-defence
by binding my arms
and hooding my eyes,
forcing meek submission?
How I admire my fellow Man
so high above the savage world,
all civilised and polite
and caring
and
tomorrow I will be dead
at their hands?
But,
I'll never kill again -
I've learnt my lesson, please,
Oh God
I swear I've learnt.
Dear pen
don't fail me now - they come.
The marks I leave
will outlast me
I envy you, foul pen.
Don't let me die,
don't kill me,
you animals,
please?
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