1964


The writing on the wall, the jumbled mess of words
destroys my inner brian, eating away at the very fiber of my soul
one mans torture written out acrossed the cement walls of his cell
for all to see, what was he immagining when he wrote
"Sleep daddy, sleep daddy, sleep forever no more"
upon the corner of the floor where he died the night before
this young man so old and hungrey for the world who
cast him aside like yesterdays garbage played out for everyone
his own metaphorical armegedon upon these very walls
falling apart as i read, the immages that enter my mind seem
to be swalowing me whole, taking away my verry innocence just by
reading on, the words i see are horrible accounts of the daily "life"
of the so called madman from 39th street, whos brutial murders were
the hottest news of 1964 in town of maulberry creek, here he tells
of each and every sinister account, writtin in gastley detail upon
the now seamingly fleshy walls of the inner most part of the state
prison where he spent the last 62 years of his life in solitude
shuned by the world and forced to sit and fester over his doings
in hopes that one day he will be forgiven and be set free, maybe
not in body but in spirit, given the oprotunity to stand before
god himself and repent for his horrid deeds, and be alowed to walk
amongst those he hurt in heaven, alowed to talk to them and
say he was sorry for what he had done, but whos to say that
this will ever happen for inmate 15993, one can only sit back
and read another tale the wall has to offer and slip into fantasy
hoping, praying for the man who lost it all one summer night in 1964