This letter was written by a person incarcerated at CIW (California Institution for Women).
Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the jail
Not a creature was stirring
not even a snail
Some inmates were hanging
by their necks in despair
With hopes that soon
they’d be free from there
The prisoners were all
crashed in their beds
Except for the ones
that rather be dead
With living nightmares
throbbing in their heads
Come Dillonges with derringer
and Nixon on Vixon
Sitting here waiting
on the final conviction
With Christmas in jail
there’s not much to tell
Lying in a coffin like cell
wondering if next year,
I’ll be sentenced to hell
