Death Row

This cell is as cold as Michigan winters,
as hard as the highways I used to travel.
For months I have been captured,
assigned to this blank cubicle.
My mind alone is allowed to escape,
to explore the world beyond these bars.
Stramgers read my mail, order my day,
set my routines, cook my meals.
The only decision left to me is
whether to open my eyes or feign sleep
whenever they bring my tray.
The bars are on my hospital bed,
my ward is a retirement home.
The nurses are the wardens and
my sentence is life.
In death I will once again be free
to wander and explore.
I embrace death that I might
live life once more.
The b


About Iris D

Pastor, former youth pastor who writes skits, devotionals, poems,and short stories. Won awards on short stories and poetry, and have published both poetry and non-fiction.

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October 2009
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Blogs I Follow

My Blog

Just another site


Poets Pub

Chris Martin Writes

Sowing seeds for the Kingdom

Awakened Words

Poetry and Other Ramblings


Just another weblog

The Journal

Random. Thoughts. Notes.

The Abuse Expose' with Secret Angel

A blog reaching out to victims of abuse and others in need, providing insight about abuse, hope for the future, and guidance to see THE LIGHT that lead Secret Angel out of the darkness of her own abusive situation and helped her to not only survive but to overcome.

Lorna's Voice

Finding ways to make words sparkle

Grow up proper

A raw view on life

Ray Ferrer - Emotion on Canvas

** OFFICIAL Site of Artist Ray Ferrer **


"This is just the kind of sense that's... not."


This site is the cat’s pajamas

Shawn L. Bird

Original poetry, commentary, and fiction. All copyrights reserved.

Rob Taylor

Writer, Poet, Photographer

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