May 30, 2011


by Michael Gomes (author's profile)



Should I be mad or should I be sad
Because my feeling is far from glad
I hate this place more than before
I stare out a barred window
and sit behind a locked door.

I'm locked up in a cage, but they call it a cell
an eight by twelve area is where I dwell.
I'm treated like an animal, or should I say beast,
never getting respect, to say the least.

I think of my children, I love them a lot,
do they remember me or have they forgot.

The projects/ghetto is where I grew up
between that and society, I became corrupt.
I started to use drugs as a young child,
all of them harsh, and none of them mild.

I went to trial because I was innocent and right,
but my lawyer sold me out like I knew he might.
He picked my jury out of my so-called peers
Now I'm the sitting and doing these years.

But my mind stays strong, even as they take.
'Cause my spirit, they could never break.

The judicial system doesn't work, take it from me.
'Cause if justice prevails, I would be free.
But society ignores this until push comes to shove,
and it happens to someone they really love.

By Michael Gomes


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