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Jul 2018
He looked down at his wrists
He must have tried to resist
The purple cuff marks
         were as plain as day
Even in the yellow light
Upper bunk, late at night
He felt no need to pray
What would he say?
         Except for what he said
                                         an hour before
         To his group of comrades
                  locked behind the same door
"I guess I ****** up again."
Written by
Kevin  60/M
(60/M)   
158
 
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