By Liz Peterson-Braveheart
I traveled miles out of town to see your face today,
Drove past the city limits through the desert far away,
Surrounded by barbed wire and a K-9 crew or two,
I wondered would I meet Mr. Houdini here?…or you?
You stood behind a piece of glass that stifled every word,
It didn’t matter though, the plea for help could still be heard.
The room was filled with people shouting loudly through the glass,
I even heard a woman tell her friend to “Kiss my a-s!”.
Two hours passed too quickly and it hurt to say goodbye,
And as I left I winked as if to say, “See, I won’t cry”.
I’ll stand beside you always with each letter that I write,
I know we’ll figure out how we’ll get through each lonely night.
The part that really gets me is the way we build in space,
But where are all the brains to help reform our human race?
We teach the kids by actions we display to shoot and kill,
Then lock them up, ignore them, and complain about the bill.
It’s “rehabilitation” at it’s best here at the zoo,
And a label of psychosis makes a tort hard to pursue.
The workers only give a damn about their lazy hides,
At best they blame the inmate’s past, not really look inside.
“Who cares about some kid who got pissed off and shot the block!!
We’ll just give him some lithium and blame it on hard rock!!
Just watch your back and get the check, that’s all that we can do,
For people locked away in super-max like SMU.”
Abuse of all this power will be sure to make life worse,
Unless we conquer fears of ones who feed into this curse.
The men who claim it’s their right to judge that a single life,
Could possibly be worth no more than all this time in strife,
They need to learn a lesson ‘bout how wrong a “right” can be
When men abuse their right to power close their eyes, refuse to see.
I’ll see you here again and pray each night and every day,
Don’t worry ‘bout my love ‘cause it won’t ever go away,
But if by chance we drift apart I’ll hold this memory dear,
It’s taught me that with lack of love all humans know….