19 to Life

I was serving 19 to life for a crime I didn't commit.
She knew it was her fault, but it was too hard to admit.
She hired a lawyer to defend my case.
She told me that she would get me out of this place.
For a moment, I found comfort in the things that she said,
until I looked into her eyes. Her eyes were dead.
I was escorted into the courtroom. It was time for the trial.
I looked out at the jury of familiar faces I hadn't seen in a while.
They were all eager for the trail to start.
They all looked at me with cold eyes and blackened hearts.
The prosecutor twisted my every thought and word,
even if I raised my voice I still wouldn't be heard.
I was given my sentence the moment I took my first breath.
The sentence they gave me could be deemed worse than death.
19 years later, I was eligible for parole.
I could finally run away, but it didn't fill the hole.
Even though I was no longer confined to a cell,
in my mind, I was still locked away in my own personal hell.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem