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Come and Gone

Morning’s gloom closing in,
Another birthday come and gone.
Twenty-some spent inside,
Each one spent alone.

I have no right to lament,
Choices turned to regrets.
Loved ones lost, friends fled,
Leaving memories of what was.

Each day closer to release,
And still fourteen birthdays left inside.
When I leave, I’ll celebrate.
Morning’s gloom closing in no more.


What is my life here,
compared to eternity?
But a single drop
in the bucket of time’s waters.
Yet it’s full of meaning,
a purpose affecting all:
to live with love and kindness,
so time’s bucket does not freeze.

Disclaimer: The views in this article are those of the author. Prison Journalism Project has verified the writer’s identity and basic facts such as the names of institutions mentioned.

Lawrence Palubecki is a writer incarcerated in Wisconsin.