Scales of Justice Michael Perry, Bruised and Bloodied, After Being Questioned by the Police Michael Perry, Bruised and Bloodied, After Being Questioned by the Police Is This Justice?


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Why Change?

By Michael Perry

I could be vengeful

and feed my anger's hunger

But to uplift your consciousness

do I have to become a monster?


Poetry by Michael Perry

I've written all these poems while sitting on death row.

Since I spend 23 hours a day in solitary confinement, poetry is one of the only ways I can express how I feel.

I hope you like them.


Michael Perry #999444

Webmaster Note: Additional poems by Michael can be found on the left side of every web page.

If you reprint any of Michael's poems, please give him credit.

It's a Rose on Death Row

A stolen seed, lonely, planted in the blackest of dirt,
With no hope to grow,
Surrounded by weeds and St. Augestine grass to choke off any signs of life.
Faced with bleak cold days every day,
With only a few glimpses of sunshine to give some strength, the seed struggles to become.

But along comes a lil' rain, to shower down.
This seed.
Determination sets in.
So it drinks a drink called life.
The other seeds have given up hope.
They refuse to taste the true giver of freedom.
They'd rather be eaten by the birds,
Or choked by the wild grass instead of planting some roots and surviving.

Now this one small lonely seed has become the most breath-taking rose to behold.
It's beauty is beyond compare.
All because it hungered to be alive,
To give pleasure with it's fragrance and to add beauty and color to the world.

But only the most careful observer with a very
Keen eye can see this beautiful, rare, lovely, rose.
Because this rose is trapped in the
Midst of darkness, coldness, & cruely,
Within the confines of...

Death Row

Inspired by Justin Fuller, who pushed me when I thought I could go no further. We are all lost roses. Fight on!

Life in a Cage

This place I am in, is made of steel and stone
And I feel so all alone.
Only I know the pain I suffer inside,
And the loneliness I feel, I cannot hide.

It's all a game, between the weak and strong.
And definitely a question of right and wrong.
Sometimes the good suffer with the bad.
All my friends tell of lost loves they've had.

I search my memory, and search it deep
And the good ones I have, I know I must keep.
For they are the ones that give me hope.
They give me the strength I need to cope.

Daily I face problems, but I take them in stride.
If anyone said it was easy, I promise you they lied.
There is nothing easy about being here,
Especially when your loved ones can't be near.

There are many days and nights I find no rest.
Often my pride is put to the test.
This other world, in which I dwell,
Can I be sure.....this isn't HELL?

Because, if there is a hell, worse than this,
I pray to God I am not on that list.
I've learned my lesson, I've learned it well.
I'm going to Heaven, cause I'm going through HELL!

Windows of the Soul

Peer through my eyes,
    look past my fears,
Understand my cries,
    near steps that trace the tears
Streaming through my mind
    where thoughts are poured
But cannot find
    a face
Less of caste
    because of twine
And razorlines

my souls maze
    A broken heart has made its slave
    By voices
and lost choices
forever to be cherished
    As I perish
for being born.

    Struggling for sanity
I scream
    To master the madness
my life has restrained
    Where dreams create sadness
and bloodstained remains
    Of my friends
of my foes
    And of my soul in the end
marked for death
    Are my steps
so through deep breaths I must transcend
    From the flames
to plain
    Free from chains
and misplaced blame
    Where all my pain
will have no reign
    To be contained
by my brain

Dreams of Reality

Last night I had a dream
    which seemed both real and true
Of a darkness lit by moonbeams
    that darkness appeared to me as you
A you once filled with misery
    unable to let go of the past
Where friendly faces were even a mystery
    that your heart wasn't allowed to grasp

Last night I had a dream
    which seemed both real and true
Of a maimed creature gently gasping its screams
    that creature reminded me of you
A you afraid to trust
    again...your own desires
But the need to open up
    is a risk that life requires

Last night I had a dream
    that seemed both real and true
In it you pushed me to the extreme
    of my own heart loving you
A you rejecting my passion
    but wanting every degree of my hatred
And allowing your emotions to fashion
    this bond which makes us sacred

Last night I had a dream
    which seemed both real and true
But I know not what it meant
    till I came face to face with you
A you consumed by fears
    but reaching out to set me free
As the puddles beneath my feet made of tears
    showed that you...was really me.

A Few Lines

The state wants to prove crime doesn't pay.
They won't let injustice stand in their way.
The have to convict someone of the crime.
They really care not if its your life or mine.
They do not worry if there is no evidence.
They just ask the "judge" for the trial to commence.
They can not afford to take any chances.
And around the court, the "D.A." prances.
The trial is not fair, everything is rigged.
The whole "justice" system, truly is jigged.
The judge reads the verdict, in just one breath.
I am found guilty and sentenced to death.

The State of Texas is being frill.
They've found out they have the "right" to kill.
I now sit and wait, here on death row.
I know late some night, my life could go.
I don't want the needle stuck in my arm.
I could never ever cause anyone harm.
Throughout the courts I put up a fight.
Cause I want to avoid that dreadful night.
Regardless of innocence,
I'm to be killed with vengeance.
So before I go
Down this dreadful road
I leave with you these few lines
For now, I have run out of time.

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Additional Information

Death Penalty Information Center

Innocence Project

Texas Civil Rights Project

Did you know...

The average age of inmates waiting to be executed in Texas is 39.

Recommended Reading

The Death Penalty: An American History