The Doors are Closed
The doors are closed now at my old alma matter
The tunnels are quiet, no movement on the tiers
The cellblocks that used to have so much life
And yes, way, way too much death, are now quiet
Missouri State Prison has closed its doors now
Nothing left but ghosts and memories, quiet
Oh, so quiet, the sound of quietness so loud it almost
Hurts the ears, the eyes playing tricks, quiet
I think of all the people I knew and how I felt
New to this life of violence and mayhem, death
I never knew a man could be killed over anything
A small debt, an afro comb, a wrong look at them
And although I know it’s crazy and very weird
I would like to walk the tunnels and cellblocks
Walk them one last time, one last memory
Where it all started 48 years ago, when I lived.
Take care,
The Old Screw
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