Thirty long years I’ve been alone
Living in a cell I’ve come to call home
My only belongings, a few pictures I keep
Of mom, my brother, little sister and more
My world it’s small inside this fence
Yet to live here forever, that’s my sentence
My Identity was taken, along with my Pride
My names now a number for the rest of my life
My fate it’s sealed, sad but true
I’ll never know love, or the warmth of a hug
Never again will I feel a woman’s gentle touch
They tell me I’ll die alone in my cell
I’ve called it home, but really it’s a living hell.

- Timothy Kirkland