Suppose I should start saying I’m innocent,
many guilty men made the same claim.
So I guess you’ve already got my number
and a number serves as well as a name.
I just long to feel some soft sunlight,
since she left there’s no sun here no more.
I only lie lost on my side of our old bed
except for those days when I fall to the floor.
They say “There’s many more fishes out there,
maybe you’ll catch a prize pollock in time”.
Since my love left I’ve just been reeling,
feeling guilty but not knowing the crime.
My only other cell mate’s more misery,
he threatens to murder me someday.
I guess I could try to top him first,
but would it work out easier that way?
She still calls me up occasionally,
I answer awkward and always alone.
When she asks “Are you doing fine?”
Takes sheer strength not to sob down the phone.
Last I heard she had a new lover,
a prison guard most appropriately.
Can’t get out and back into her heart
when he holds onto the only key.
Do you think if I can keep on being good
you could come release me early on parole?
Have you heard of anything I can hope for?
Or a way to escape the prison within my soul?
Copyright © 2015 Philip Craddock. All rights reserved.