LIVING WITH STRANGERS
Started to write this poem then changed my mind
Something else came along
It could be good
It could be bad
It could be short
It could be long
I hate this place I’m in
Want to go home; I miss my friends and family
These past few months have worn me out
I’ve had my fill, mentally drained
My patience is nil
I do what I can to not frown
Can’t wait to get back to my own home town
Living with strangers, I’ve had enough
It’s true what they say
Prison life is rough
I’ve lost my inspiration to write these lines
It could be good
It could be bad
None the less, being here makes me sad
Mike Farris Jr.
8/25/08
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem