(This is a fictional poem)
I'm really frightened because I'm about to die in this electric chair.
I was convicted for a murder I didn't commit and that wasn't fair.
Somebody killed a little girl and then took her body and hid it.
Because she was found on my land, the cops assumed that I did it.
When they throw that switch, I will fry.
The real killer is going free while I'm about to die.
If the world is this ignorant and cruel, it might be better that I'll no longer be a part of it.
The people responsible for putting me in this chair can take their justice system and shove it.
Randy Johnson's Other Poems
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