Roll ‘em up!

 

Let me tell you a weary soul’s tale,

when emerging from a prison’s dark veil.

 

Fifty-five is the number etched on my face,

ten years the sentence in a 6 x 8 space.

 

From these cells and steel bars I yearn to be free,

as I await my fate for a parole decree.

 

I know I will be as fragile as a feather,

once I am set free from my ten-year tether.

 

A lifetime of memories in this place is fading fast,

I just don’t know how much longer I can last.

 

Deep within my heart beats a flicker of hope…

three and half years done, and I’ve managed to cope.

 

When I walk the streets again, a stranger in the crowd,

will my past follow me like a dark-shaded shroud?

 

Every footstep I take will echo whispers of remorse,

as I ponder the choices that have altered my course.

 

Will all the passerby look at me with distrust,

judging, their whisperings piercing the dust.

 

But I have to carry on, undeterred and standing strong,

doing the very best I can to right every wrong.

 

Never before, where my most secret dreams do reside,

did I see my life in a prison… jungle law, freedom denied.

 

With each passing day I face a critical test…

to rebuild my life, not sit praying for death.

Perhaps there is still time for me to erase this disgrace,

and leave the old life behind and find a better place.

 

Oh, fifty-five years… a long and worn burden I bear,

nightmarish stories of my life even I do not share.

 

But then life holds no age or decree,

that can keep me forever from being free.

 

Let my footsteps wander as my story unfolds,

as I get older and wiser when I step out on parole.

 

Even in the darkest night can birth a new dawn.

I hear the doors open, and the jailer sings the parole’s song…

 

“Blain…roll ‘em up!”

​

-Peter