TheBetter Man

The Better Man “I don't remember,” He said of his childhood, and I believed him, for Those tortured as children May not remember. Now, he is our prisoner, for We well remember his Hideous crime. “The officers are trying to Kill me,” He said, and In fact, there are many Who wish him dead. Combing out the tangled strands Of a troubled life, I found one strong strand which Stood alone, and was amazed. “I haven't seen her for Seventeen years,” He said of his daughter, “Not once since I been down.” And then the hideous-murder man Lifer criminal smiled Softly. “She's a young lady now,” and then, a little louder “Her mother promised, if I took the rap and did Life She'd bring the baby so I could visit,” he said. “But...” and then “I haven't seen her since.” I saw the pale moon of his loving devotion Shine through the torrential storms Of which his life was made. And then I knew that this man Whom none had loved, Whom many had beaten, Whom many hate, Had found the love and strength To keep his love alive, A steady candle in the Rainstorms of his life. He was surprised when I told him the truth: “You Are A Better Man Than I Am.” Mule Creek State Prison Ione, California April 2, 2010