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Incarcerated
by Patrick W. Hopkins
The land of the free.
These words mean nothing to me.
Mountains of hope crumble
With the threat of democracy.
Taxes paid as the law invades,
Only God can save as I no longer enjoy sunny days.
I don�t feel wrong as I try to be strong,
It�s been so long since I visited my home.
Judged by another man who�s no better,
Than I am, thinks he�s got the plan,
To make me understand.
When it�s all laid on the line,
All they want is the fine
And the poor man does the time.
What a wonderful country,
What a crock of shit.
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Incarcerated is copyright 1998 by Patrick W. Hopkins