Jeremy sits in the sun and he stares
at the stripes on the floor
from the bars on the door
Thinking of rabbits he kept as a child
In a chicken wire cage, he remembers the rage
Of his father the night he made his one call
The relative stranger who left him to fall
To the mercy of judges with no shield at all
Now he sits and he stares at the punishing wall

Jeremy picks up the crayon he saved
and he writes in the dark and he thinks of the park
And the flower he gave to the girl with the bells
He remembers her smile, it was gone at the trial
Hear the footsteps of night guards patrolling the halls
There are coughers and talkers who don't sleep at all
'Midst the curse words and worse words
That someone had scrawled
He writes her a poem on the punishing wall

Mary, sweet Mary, it's dark and it's cold
It's all of the stories you've ever been told
Keep the jar on the window, keep the lock on the door
Keep your mind on the man, keep away from the store

Oh Jeremy gentle, oh Jeremy kind
As you walk with the thieves and the killers believe
That our numbers are growin', the change has to come
Put resentment aside, don't turn bitter and die

© February 9, 1968; Siquomb Publishing Co