Eight by Ten
Living in an eight by ten, is worse than it could seem,
Concrete all around you, it's beyond your wildest dream.
No one there to talk to, or to listen when you cry,
The reality is this: you think that you will die.
It's not the bars, for that's a lie, there are bars no more,
But the cold, loud slamming, of that solid steel door.
Concrete and steel, that's all there is, surrounding you each day,
You sit and wonder, and you pray, “Is this the only way”?
To be innocent in a world like this, you wonder,“Could it be"?
They say, “On to court, just wait and you will see."
But there is no “justice” in this place, you knew it from the start,
They have their own “justice” there, and they can tear you apart.
To know that you've been convicted, of a crime you didn't do,
You find you're on the inside now, with no one there to help you.
The thoughts you have are here and there, no ending can be found,
When you thought you were dreaming, you really were huddled on the ground.
Where did all the truth go to, as on your knees you pray,
You tell yourself “It's just a dream, I'll awake and it'll be okay."
But not this time, this is for real, no matter how often you awake,
You will plead and pray endlessly, “Oh, please for God's sake."
But no one cares, at least not here, not outside of these walls,
All the guards and deputies, they laugh inside the halls.
They laugh at you, and torture you, for what they say you did,
Never giving a second thought, to the fact you're just a kid.
Torture to them is oh so fun, they will have their judgement day,
And I wish I could watch, as they are sent away.
To be imprisoned, just like you, inside their concrete jail,
No, it won't be concrete, it will be in hell.
If there is truly hell on earth, I know this is the place,
In a government run facility, how do they show their face?
Maybe in another country, far out of the way,
But it's not supposed to happen here, not in the USA.
But freedom never has been free, we pay deep, right to the core,
And the “Under God” slogan, why? What is it for?
To them it's just words penned down, it's not for you and me,
They do not live by these words, so really, are we free?
So as you live from day to day, be careful what you do,
And for once just remember, it's real, they're watching you.
No matter where you go, or what you do, just think of that concrete cell,
No, think of this, the justice system is purely a living hell.
© Sherri Whittaker August 3, 2005 Spizod