I lost a lot of rights.

I was a prisoner in their sights.

Looks more to the wrong than to the rights.

Crossed the road and now my murder she writes.

The judge eyed me suspiciously as she ignored my fights.

They had misspelled my name taking grammar murder to new heights.

Now in a dark gloomy cell, we share stories with a new comrade as a blunt he lights.

It’ll be a good night after all, across the room at the threshold, a female guard eyes me and her lip she bites.