Prison poet

writing poems for hoods

who had beaten their enemies

baseball bats or leaded gloves

telling their old ladies

those days were over for good

but already plotting

their next robbery

fixing alibis & drop offs

while wanting love letters

soppy soft operas of lust

hiding their illiteracy

behind you are the best at this

there were no gainers here

in the lives of I wanna’s

without the will to work hard

find the decent way through

just a life in the easy way

& my writing was a piece of this

another part in the one act play

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