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An innocent man coming to grips with capital punishment. |
| The End Of A Sentence? I carry a prison upon my shoulder. It only gets heavier as I grow older. My cell is familiar, I know it well. Like my soul, it’s an empty shell. The jury decided my guilt was real. My innocence escaped my final appeal. A silence now bellows, loud in my head. Will it quiet, when I am dead? This I fear. I need to know. Will the torture cease, or will it grow? To live or to die, or is it the same? I no longer wish to play this game. My final moments desire proof, As a priest attempts to explain the truth. Words like bandages hide the pain. The wounds don’t heal, they still remain. I must let go, to see what’s there. The worst thing is, nobody cares. Alone I am. Alone I will be. A lonely walk to my hanging tree. Doug L. |