Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2017
My name is little Joey Ochs these are my final words,
I stood before a judge last night and told him all I could.
If I was to have had a Pa, or even just one friend,
Perhaps I wouldn't be put away behind a prison fence.

My Mama was a ******* she hung around the bars,
I knew when she was working when I smelled the mens cigars.
We found her underneath the stairs, bottle of pills in hand,
In the other she held a not that yelled "Nobody understands."

My Daddy was a Patriot he fought the battle of Guam,
He had a billion different names but I think his first was Tom.
My fathers life was alcohol he drank for every meal,
But then they found pa dead one night, his hands still on the wheel.

So now you see I had it rough, my parents weren't there,
And even the few times that they were I don't think that they cared.
If I had gone to college I might have a career,
I might have even learned to write, and been the next Shakespeare.

I got a gang that taught me well, and made me feel a man,
They helped me through the toughest times, by hatching evil plans.
I stole and drank and smoked a lot, they said I'd go to hell,
To me that sounded accurate, but who can really tell.

I really didn't mean to become mixed up in this mess,
But still, one day the cops came 'round and maybe for the best.
We went to jail for a hit n run, there's nothing else to say,
'cept maybe that I was not the one driving on that day.

The prison was the only place I've ever liked to be,
It was there that I met all my pals, I never tried to flee.
There among the thousand men who were not very kind,
Is where I felt I was at home even if I was confined.

One day an officer came around and slid open my door,
He said the jails are overcrowded, and we need room for more.
So on that day I walked free I was a bit confused,
I did not know 'bout life outside I left without a clue.

So then I was alone out there, the first time in my life,
The only thing that I possessed was clothing and my knife.
I knew I had to go back there, the only life I knew,
I begged and pleaded, "let me back, I haven't payed my dues."

One day I was done with it, I was really in bad shape,
I killed a man, in broad daylight I didn't try to escape.
I went before a jury, so they could send me back,
I had to prove to all of them I was no maniac.

Oh yes I was found Guilty, and I don't disagree,
I knew I had to be put away, that's why I done the deed,
But I didn't think about the way that they might sentence me.
So now I'm getting ready to hang from the gallows tree.

So if anyone can hear me speak I'll only tell ye' this,
There's more to life than breathing air and trying to exist.
Now I'm glad I have no parents that can see me die.
I'm also glad I had no friends so they wont see me cry.
A folk song I wrote last night.
Scott Hamsun
Written by
Scott Hamsun  West of the Ocean
(West of the Ocean)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems