A Stranger with a Rope...
Prison is like a pool of deep water,
at first so clear that you can easily see the surface
and grasp the reaching hands of family and loved ones
holding you, keeping you from sinking.
But years pass, and grips tire and loosen,
one by one finally letting go until all are gone,
and you begin to slowly sink, deeper and deeper,
into the murky depths that have become your world,
and the light above slowly fades into pieces
of imperfect memory until, finally, all that remains of hope
is an unclear vision of a stranger far above somewhere with a rope...
and the prayer that she will throw it.