Challenge
Prose Challenge of the Week #45: You’re on death row for a crime you didn't commit. Write about it. The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100. When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge
Done For
Locked up.
No light.
No life.
All alone.
Everyone thinks I did it,
But I didn't.
Funny how they forget
Everything you've done for them,
All the sacrifices you've made,
That you even exist.
I've been labeled
As a criminal,
As a murderer.
After that, people didn't care.
They decided I was trash,
A waste of space,
Dirt not even worth the bottom of their shoe.
They didn't even bother
To ask if I did it.
I didn't
But nobody cares.
I'm out of time.
Nobody came,
Nobody's here.
They hook me up to the machine
That will end me
And I look around.
Nobody.
The cold fills my veins.
I didn't do it
But it's too late now,
I'm done for.
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