Emergency Brake

(The following was written at Rutherford Correctional Center in Spindale, NC, 
for an inmate creative writing contest---poetry division--- in June, 2012.)

                                 

Emergency Brake

I've lived my life doing wrong, so now I'm living a country song.

I'm in prison, my baby left me, now I'm staring at fourth and long.

Always a slave to the bong, but I should have known all along,

Hot beach babe wearing a thong would soon be covered with a sarong.

The judge and D.A. gave me the gong, said in prison is where I belong,

But I fit in here like King Kong getting drunk and playing beer pong.

Now I have fences around me, they put my lazy butt in jail,

I guess when that gavel hit I was no longer too big to fail.

Too much instant gratification, too often chasing that tail,

Instead of showing honor and getting into Harvard or Yale.

Now I'm in a joyless place, full of annoyances beyond the pale,

loud sounds and graceless antics , like chalkboards and fingernails.

Prison is humanity laid bare, where subtlety gets you nowhere.

My patience starts to wear, and I wonder how much I can bear.

Seems everyone is on a tear; it's a human zoo extraordinaire.

Where empathy is something rare, and forget about any savoir faire.

But far be it for me to share, to these boors that I might care.

For if I let my temper flair, I could end up the subject of a dare.

This may seem poetry-trite, but at the end of this tunnel I see a light.

Not trying to fuss or fight, I've almost come to relish my plight.

Here free health care is a right, and I have unlimited time to write.

Turns out you can see the bright in odd places if you keep your sight.

When life seems like endless night, and I am immersed in blight.

I find gratitude with all my might, let my mind and soul take flight.

Turns out I needed an emergency brake, to halt habits I could not shake.

Thirty months hence, when I awake, I will give to society instead of take.

I'm not in prison by a mistake, I have unproductive habits I need to break.

My life swept up by a craps table rake, a new beginning in its wake.

Time to stop being a flake; to lead a productive life, for goodness sake.

Cease living an existence that's fake, and knead some fresh dough to bake.