Transcription
9-29-19
Dear Reader,
Hey. I hope you're doing well!
Today I'm going to share with you a poem I wrote for my mother. I wrote this poem approximately five months after being sentenced to death. I'd gotten into trouble and was placed on disciplinary confinement which had me behind a steel wall. Nearly cut off from all sound. The crack under the door was my only access to sound and ventilation. Sometimes I'd lay my mat on the floor and talk to my neighbors, but mostly I read books, wrote letters, poetry, and songs, and daydreamed.
This particular day I cannot remember, but the fact that my mother had made contact with me I'm sure played a role in how I felt when I decided to write this peom.
The moment I'm speaking of ("On that sad, sad day") is when I was 10 years old and I was brought home in handcuffs for a breaking and entering charge. Actually, it wasn't a charge. I was just cuffed and brought home...
So, I wrote this poem in acknowledgement of the pain I put her through. A plea to have my mother in my life.
Until next time.
Yours truly,
Doug
===
SHE CRIES AND IT'S MY FAULT
I'll never forget the look
On that sad, sad day
That I arrived home
With some company
A stern look with a frown
And a tear behind those eyes
And it was all my fault
For my mother's cries
That's the first that I remember
That I let her down
The first time of many
Of hearing that sound
And oh that sound
That sound it may
Still shatter my heart
Many times 'tis today
And if I had a thousand
I'd bet it times two
This morning, this night
She still cries through
And just like now
'Tis just like then
It's still my fault
Her heart still cries within!
I'm sorry, Mama!
[signature]
1/27/11
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