Fearing The Future
I live in fear of what the future brings
for the fact that I can no longer hear the birds sing.
I walk the narrow hall lead by a guard
that intends for me to ride a streak of lightning.
I am sentenced to death as it seems
I was told it was to be deemed
necessary that I spend a year
quite visably in fear
of the prison
that I now invision
closing in all around me.
Death to me is not the loss of a life
but the strife
one goes through while living it.
for some death comes while they sit
before a stand of judges and jury.
Death has come when your being whisked down the mile
in single file with many men in orange uniform.
as you move forward through the gate
you begin thinking of the date
that you might get your life back.
You begin to pray that you keep on track
through the many shades of black
until cleansed into the shades of gray.
broken and torn
one might begin to mourn
and wonder if he might ever see the light of day.
but until he has paid it is safe to say
that his life will continue to stay black.