My house is one of heartache,
A place of steel and stone.
A barren cell, a home of Hell,
And here I stand alone.
When I rage,
I pace my cage
That no man
Wants to own.
Memories of free life
Chill me to the bone.
I hear them sling their giant keys
Which crank the iron locks.
Booted feet upon concrete,
Guards patrol the blocks.
Criminal’s knives take human lives,
No jungle holds more danger.
Each day that comes my way,
I meet a new stranger.
I watch my back, because there’s lack
Of those who can be trusted.
In this world of steel and stone,
Bars that are all rusted.
Home of men who are downtrodden,
The world I live in now,
The world of the forgotten…

ABOUT THE WRITER. Tom Landers sent this poem into our spring writing contest. Although it didn’t quite match the writing prompt for the contest – we still enjoyed his work and wanted to share it. Mr. Landers can be contacted at:
Thomas Landers #124529
Housing Unit E3-10A
Idaho St. Correctional Center
P.O. Box 70010
Boise, Idaho 83707