A few Poems I found on the Web

Dream or Reality

By Ramon Morales, Tecumseh,NE,Dept of Correction

A dream is only a dreambut yet I live when I sleep.

I live what I dream,but I hope to neva seeor face reality.

I close my eyesonly to arise,

like a thief in the night walking in eternal darkness in this land of the heartless,

caught in a web an friends with death. I inhale an exhalemy last breath.

So tell meis it just a dream?or is everything I dream really--reality?

INSIDE A PRISON CELL

Inside a prison cell
I sat there all alone.
No where to go,
Not even a home.
My heart cried out
In that tiny cell,
I told Jesus;  this is living hell.
I got down on the floor,
Prayed out to the Lord,
I told Jesus I cannot take this anymore.
He said my child, confess your sins.
I'll forgive you and take you to the eternal end.
My life has changed now by His grace,
I know that Jesus saved me a place.
Now I have a home;
That I did not have before,
It was Jesus who knocked on my cell door.

Written By: Patricia Brown 2001

EVERY PRISON COP

They go to prison everyday

But they’re not doing time

Just watching felons in their state

Convicted of a crime 

They keep the peace beyond all costs

Knowing what they do

Serves the public they protect

and every prisoner too.

So next time you get on your knees

And pray for crime to stop

Don't forget to say a prayer

For Every Prison Cop

Free At last
Walter C. Clair
I was irresponsible, so they sent me to a place where I had no responsibilities.
I wasn't a productive member of society so they isolated me from the community.
I wasn't positive and constructive,
so they put me in a place where we're degraded and made useless.
I wasn't trust worthy so they put me where there is no trust.
I wasn't kind, so they placed me where I was subjected to hate and cruelty.
I wasn't loving so they put me where there is little love.
They wanted me non-violent, so they placed me where there is violence all around.
They wanted me to quit being a tough guy,
so they placed me where the tough guy is respected.
They wanted me to be a winner, so they placed me where all the losers are housed under one roof.
They wanted me to quit exploiting people, so they put me where people exploit one another.
They wanted me to see myself, and when I looked around, I didn't like what I saw.
I wanted to change what I was, now they are helping me do that.

P.C. (Potassium Chloride)
By Ralph Bolden
I'm dreaming of death....
When I close my eyes for the last time I rewind...
Will the last thing I see be my mother's smile?
Or the faces of the jury from my trial.
Watching the P.C. come down the track,
going into my vain, now there is no turning back.
Strapped to the crucifix - pacifist cringe;
If murder ain't right, why would the state kill them.
Coughing up blood when I wake up in my cell,
I think of my mother and a tear of love breaks my shell;
But truthfully I'll never fold; day to day stay strong
Living in a place where no one belongs
Death Row is a place where I lay captive,
24-7 lockdown is how we live.
I smile on the outside, tormented in my dreams.
I see Potassium Chloride enter my bloodstream

About the author: Mr. Bolden is currently on Pennsylvania's Death Row. He is a performance poet, writer and musician.
Among his many inspirations are his brother, an accomplished musician, his mother. a published poet and author, and his great grandmother who at 92 years old has just published her second book. His interests are: religion (comparative studies), music, and current events. Correspondence is welcome.
Ralph Bolden #CZ 1411
1040 E. Roy Furman Hwy.
Waynesburg, PA. 15370-8090