These Damn Prison Bars!

THIS IS A FICTIONAL POEM.

Three years ago, I fell of a steeple.
My fall was broken by three people.

When this happened, it was very grim.

I weigh 600 pounds and I killed all three of them.

 

My family doesn't understand why I'm always in a bad mood.

It's quite apparent that my family has never eaten prison food.

Three days ago, the damn Warden decided to put me on a diet.

If you tell people that it makes me unhappy, I won't deny it.

 

I'm only being fed three beans each day.

For the next ten years it will be this way.

Before I was arrested, I had no idea how much trouble that I would get in.

If I'm ever released from this rat infested dump, I'll never come here again.