PRISON

Debra K Middaugh 1963 (San Diego, CA.)



Here I sit in prison in my 8 X 10 cell,
My own creation a living hell.

   Racial tension is in the air,
Nothing about this is easy or fair.

   The crime committed is getting high,
It’s illegal in the public’s eye.

   The odds of paroling and not coming back,
You could say it’s a tough nut to crack.

   You get to go home your out of the hole,
Slow down there you must report to parole.

   When your there you piss in a cup,
Your parole officer says you better wise up.

   If this is dirty, I’m taking your ass to jail,
Two weeks later back in prison in my 8 X 10 cell.

           TURBO1904    OCT 31, 2021

About this poem

This is one about addiction and California's inmate population. Dealing with Parole and the consequence's of my actions.

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Written on October 31, 2021

Submitted by Turbo1904 on November 04, 2021

Modified on March 05, 2023

35 sec read
12

Quick analysis:

Scheme AA BB CC DD EE FF XA X
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 600
Words 119
Stanzas 8
Stanza Lengths 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 1

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    "PRISON" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 31 Oct. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/113286/prison>.

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