Not a creature

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