Fist of rage
By: Shawn D. Petrie (7-8-2004)
A cold wind was blowing
The night of October 10th
The moon was full, the sky was black
And everything was still
Through the dead of the night
Came a sudden flash of bright light
Over a fit of jealous rage
I had taken a life
Who was I to judge the man
Was what he did so very wrong
As wrong as the crime I have just committed
As wrong as to the cell I am now committed
Three meals a day and a
Tattooed Muscular cell mate
Stone walls and a bed
Like a caged animal all over a fist of rage
F O L L O W A U G U S T W I L L D E C A Y
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