A Death From Within.

in warm oblivious solitude,
night forever came,
fading vibrations dimmed,
our lives would never be the same.

never did i see your face,
never did i see your smile,
never did i hold your little hands,
but for a while,
you were you.

you emerged from within,
and died from within,
once three hearts beated,
now just two,
never did we meet,
but i shall forever miss you.

and although i will never,
ever stroke your little head,
or place you lovingly in your,
perfect wooden bed.
memories shall remain,
of the little time,
you spent with mum,

somewhere you are sleeping,
on fluffly warm white clouds,
and we are smiling right back,
with the love only parents know.

(in memory of the child that never came to be)

by Not Long Left

Comments (4)

The narration is very lively. Nobody likes to be in the prison but everybody reaches there out of certain circumstances. Nobody can expect a prison to be a holiday home. This is natural. Even if all the people and parties cried for a better prison environment, somewhere it is never fulfilled. A prisoner is always seen as only a second rate person. Man won't accept him like his very neighbor because the man in the prison has a tag about him. This is the difficulty. Who created that tag is another question.
And when your feet dry and you find yourself being puked on by more bad beavers than you can shake two sticks at just remember what yo momma told you the first time Oprah rolled her fat ass out of the ocean, 'These grocers are rubbing my tits a bit too hard.'
Charlie, you truly inspire me. Your poetry makes me want to get a tattoo just like yours. All my life I've been amazed by the story of Charles Manson and I see him as somewhat of an American Hero. You're my hero, Charlie. Die pigs.
again, a beautiful poem from charles manson...CHARLES IN CHARGE! ! ! ! ! ! ! !