A Poem: The Final Hour
The Final Hour by Marsha Marie The walls around me are closing in. The air seems thick and used. I hear the whispers and sighs of enveloped friends. The shutting of the door, a sign of finality. I breath thru the bottom of the door. The angel of death taunts me. Can I say good-bye, a final hello. Prepare me like a child in my final hour. The needles go down, I close my eyes. Regrets explode. And I disconnect from a world, the one who never really knew me. ********************************************************************************* Men and women who are on death row around the world feel forgotten and out of hope. Consider becoming a penfriend with them. There are several websites that offer such services for these hopeless individuals. A few are: WriteAPrisoner.com HumanWrites.org WomenAndPrison.org BetweenTheBars.org