Sentenced to die, a slow lonely death, my cell keeps me from going insane. My cell is my hated best friend, we'll be together until the end. Spending much time together, no matter the weather outside it is my place to cry and hide. My cell does not disrespect me, it can not feel my pain, see me, hear me, hold me. It accepts me for who and what I am, happy or sad, good or bad. My cell gives me peace of mind, as I search for memories, hard to find. A place to cope, think, pray and hope. Now for a second I had another thought, then I let go; I must be growing old, in this life without parole. In my cell there is no time for idle thought, nor space, nor room to roam. Only to gather strength to live another day. In my cell I never have to relinquish my power, my presence, my heart-felt struggle with another day in a a life without parole. Must have been a hard to find thought of home that slipped my mind. My cell does not care how much I cry, if I am lonely or sky, for it is where I will eventually die. Until the end, Past tomorrow Forevermore. My cell is my best friend, it's where I'll be when my life without parole, comes to end. Fred (Corky) Proctor, LWOP #178602 National Lifers of America, Inc. Chapter 1026-A Vice President Michigan Reformatory 1342 W. Main Street Ionia, MI 48846-1923 |