Some may say it’s crazy what I’m about to say,
but it’s better to be homeless worrying about your next meal
or how the weather may play, because you must live outdoors.
Better for you than where I am right now.
Better for you who can go as you please and do as you wish.
On the street you are much better off than this.
Where am I? I’m in a place where I have no control;
beyond the worst drug addiction,
beyond what the weak can’t handle, the strong can barely bare.
Your love fades away and all you gain is gray hair.
All you gain is anger, regret, and hate
and for your moment to come, all there is to do is wait.
Better for you in Hell.
At least you know what to expect every day.
Better for you in a wheelchair.
Here I am standing and can’t walk away.
Even in a new age, they still go by the old ways.
Even if you have faith and even if you do pray.
Better to be any of you in a society living without neglections.
Where am I right now, I ask?
Department of Corrections.
by Duane Brockman