Last supper

Last Supper

The judge sentenced me,
left me alone to rot, to let me be.
I sit for eight hours a day,
working.
I sit for eight hours a day,
reading.

I watch the bugs crawl on my unkempt floor,
watching them come and go underneath the door.
I stare at the window and lay my head on the pillow.

With a dreaded sigh,
I know this is the night that I die.
At least prisoners get a last supper,
I’m eating fucking pizza pops.