- 1
What I must say is hard.
- You may shun my hand.
For what I have done
- there is no excuse in the land.
I expect you to be prejudice
- and to me away send.
I almost hope that you do.
- For you see my friend,
there is no hurry
- years will pass before I return
I do have a chance
- if I can learn to serve.
- 2
To God's redeeming grace,
- and love I can turn
His love forgives, but can I
- your forgiveness ever earn.
The judge knows there is a
- chance that I will die, but sad
You'll never understand,
- and of that I am glad
Just what prison is like
- for a sex offender.
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3
The court has no choice,
but alas I may not fend
The crude knife, a shank
for my back, placement right
As prison halls I walk,
I pray, and teeth I grit
From behind there is no chance
to ward of or fight,
A coward's way, not at all?
To them I deserve it.
4
The calls, the slurs
violent threats I fear.
As the self righteous murderer
who abides here
says, “I am not like him,
he is sick, give him pain.”
Enroute to church mothers are
slurred and His name in vain,
"Mormon's don't have normal sex.
It's either kids or sheep."
for talk in the culinary, loud that all
may hear, awake from sleep.
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5
"From the prison farm
did you hear the good news,"
"They beat another 'rapo' to death..
That's good let's get some more."
I'm sorry indeed,
I don't mean to hurt your ear
with frankness in telling you
the words that I hear.
These and many more vile.
Words are now imbedded
in my brain, words wishing for
me to be with the dead.
6
Empathy is impossible
without deviant thought.
But perhaps, with a glimmer
of God's perfect love,
I can still ask your forgiveness
from the mental pain wrought.
Please forgive. I want no blame
for your suff'ring above.
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