I'm sorry
Every I'm sorry is like a a piece torn from my soul
The vibrancy is dimmed just a little
Every I'm sorry I have to give you
Is giving a piece of me
I didn't want to give
Because I'm sorrys are like your gasoline
They keep you moving
You crave them
You accept them but want more
But you don't know what you're taking
You don't know that you're taking my freedom and locking me in
Because each one puts me in the wrong
Every I'm sorry is an admonition of guilt
For a crime I may not have committed
But it's easier to confess and take the hanging
Than be tortured

Stressing for some days.
Then I caught my case.
I been on the run trying to give myself some time to think.
Sitting in my room, all I did was drink and pray.
Call home twice a week and tell my people I'm ok.
They ask me if I'm stressing, I'll say hell no I'm straight.
But they can tell I'm different because it's written all in my face.
I been working out.
I been gaining weight.
Been having dreams and nightmares about my death and case.

Ain't nobody send me no mail.
Stressing with my back home girl.
Trying to see and conquer the world.
But it all is seeming like just like jail.
Writing down my plans, hoping I don't slip again.
Drop some money on my poems and books and trust me I'll bounce back again.

Things aren't looking good.
But still I keep the faith.
While I'm sitting up in California, trying to fight my case.
Running through this maze.
Just miss my mom and daughters face.
I come out every weekend out my cell just to party and to drank.
Back and forth with peoples words and court,
They talking bout some rank.
I ain't did that since with the homies I was raised.
Everyone across the country,
They seem so far away.
As I'm sitting up in California, trying to fight my case.

“Nobody owns life, but anyone who can
pick up a frying pan owns death.”
– William S. Burroughs

Through a door that is not mine
that’s left ajar from time to time
we see a man with zany eyes
scarred-up face, mouth full of lies.

Through a window at an ungodly hour
the night our neighborhood lost power
we see the man pull on a mask
and knit the weavings of his task.

I should have gotten quite the scare
when he pulled that woman by her hair,
then tossed her in the hole he’d fill
and quickly cover with daffodils,

but I’m no stranger to playing detective;
his plots have proven rather defective.
A call to the cops brings a rap on his door
that eventually leads to the lush garden floor.

Now, I don’t think I’m deserving of fame
my ego is simply much too tame
but I have kept dark things from view
and you listen well, so I’ll share with you.

There is something you should recognize
in that man with zany eyes;
don’t always believe what you’re told to see,
for he who plants the daffodils is me.

I AM LOCKED IN THE CABOOSE
GET ME OUT OF JAIL
I DON'T LIKE THIS PEN
I AM JUST A MERE MAIL


THE WALLS AT THIS PRISON
REMIND ME OF THE JOINT
DON'T PUT ME IN THE LOCK UP
I CAN'T SEE THE POINT


WHAT IS THIS WATCH HOUSE
I WILL UPGRADE TO THE BIG HOUSE
I AM INNOCENT YOU HERE OR
I WILL SQUEAL  LIKE A MOUSE

Locked away all you see is four walls
A locked door,
Laying down wishing you was home
Phone calls, but no ones ever home
Try again tomorrow
Mail seems never to appear
They said they wrote you
But it never made it here
They threw away the key but
Couldn't take my mind
So every other night
I let my thoughts roam
I let my hands write
Let my soul rest
While I watch the time fly

My head hurts, mom
Please come and take the pain away, mom
I'm not holding my breath, I can't breath
No one understands my brain, but me
The way I think, the path I've lain
and when the dead comes and whispers in my ear,
I'll make sure that you come and hear.
↝⍣↝⍣↝⍣↝
My tears keep stealing water from the ocean
and every effort I make ends in lost devotion.
My heart hurts, mom
Please come and take the pain away, mom
I don't know who I want near, mom
Everyone I want can't come here, mom
It's my natural instinct to run to you, mom
But, I try my hardest to show you I grew, mom
I'm not some little girl with an innocent mentality
But, I am someone who tries to escape reality
Two attempts and I've failed, mom
I'm feeling better but my mind is still jailed
I will keep my mind locked up for now
And only let thoughts out that you allow.

Lock her up! Lock her up! Lock her up!
Your campaign crowds so chanted.
You took it in and smugly smiled
while they all railed and ranted.

But lock her up for what? I thought.
She's been investigated.
For alleged conflict of interest,
she has been exculpated.

So if such accusations,
when even proved untrue,
provide sufficient grounds for jail.
They'll have to lock up... You!