‘Twas The Night Before Lockdown
’Twas the night before lockdown, and all through the cell;
all the creatures were stirring, it sure wasn’t swell!
My ears, they were ringin’.
The rats, they were singin’.
Ain’t nothing is quiet, ’cause prison’s noisy as hell!
My cellmate is sketchy, I hope that I live,
I should prob’ly appease him, so a gift I shall give.
Some mercy I’ll coax,
with a carton of smokes;
if that doesn’t work, he’s gettin’ a shiv.
The “Pokey” at Christmas, is nothing but funks,
’cause my family is gone, and I’m living with drunks.
Their leader’s a mooch
who drinks toilet hooch;
and I think he’s about, to blow us some chunks.
The channel we watch, causes clatter and strife.
Will it be a dumb talk show, or a “Wonderful Life?”
Toughness was touted,
in a room that was crowded;
’til an Aryan punk, broke out his knife.
The fists went to flyin’, as I pummeled a thief,
but the gang war was halted, to hang up a wreath.
I said a quick prayer
then grabbed a crook’s hair;
and soon we were back, to cavin’ in teeth.
The punches were many, in this Christmas humdinger,
as I tried to evade, a really hard swinger.
But that was a botch,
I got kicked in the crotch;
and when it was over, we watched Jerry Springer.
The guard who’s on duty, sits on his rump.
He can’t move too fast, ’cause he’s pleasantly plump.
The sound when he breathes
is a horrible wheeze,
and he has an I.Q., matching “Forrest-The-Gump”
There’s no Christmas sprit, from the Jailers’s mean sneer,
when that fat fink walks by, we all start to jeer!
The skittles he scarfs,
The snickers he snarfs;
and his sticky round face, has a chocolaty smear.
The Jailer on Christmas, his pants he outgrowed,
it made a big mess, when he clogged the commode.
He’s a big dumpy pawn,
we’ll be glad when he’s gone;
and the sign on his back, says: “CAUTION, WIDE LOAD.”
The Holiday blues, will make you want space’
when you think of the loads, of time that you face.
So enjoy your detention
with the Warden’s invention:
it’s an aerosol can, of Pumpkin Spice Mace.
Christmas in prison, can bring down the best of us,
so we have a new custom, for all of the rest of us.
It’s quite the bonanza.
THANKS Frank Costanza,
For the airing of grievances, during our holiday: “FESTIVUS.”
Cheer in the Big House, is really uncommon,
you hope for the “joy”, of an aerial bombin’.
The fence is all barbs!
We eat only Carbs!
And the highlight of Christmas? A new flavor of ramen.
No boughs of holly, are deckin’ our halls.
No trees in prison, with lights or bright balls.
This old concrete slab,
is dismal and drab;
our only decor, is some puke on the walls.
Alluring scents from Christmas-Past, were the order of the day;
turkey, scones and pecan pie, arrived with Santa’s sleigh.
But our jail has the stench,
of an unshowered wench;
it reminds me a bit, of July in Bombay!
Christmas in prison, will leave you all “WHACK!”
The Psych? he’s no help, that man is a QUACK!
So I’m always in doubt,
as I ponder about;
The family who prob’ly, does not miss me back.
A present that’s hoped for, is quite like a ghost,
you can’t wrap it up, though it’s wanted the most.
It’s forgiveness I seek,
without it I’m weak;
and if I can’t find it, I’m sure to be toast.
Locked up at Christmas, will make you want rope,
but a jolly good friend, will help you to cope.
Some truth that’s imbued,
from a merry ole dude;
will bring you The Light, and a future of hope.
The “Holiday meal” is a tray full of gunk,
the kitchen has served a mysterious hunk.
The Chef, he has said:
“I thought it was dead,”
but you’d swear you were chewing on skunk!
If you live a free life, or are locked in “The Clink,”
Christmas is there, for both “Royal” and “Fink.”
So please lend an ear,
to a message that’s clear;
It’s this nugget of truth, which I ask you to think:
During Christmas we reflect, on HE who paid THE PRICE,
For our sins so great and many, HIS life would sure suffice.
Rejoice! A new dawn.
The old life is gone!
Our savior has been born, his name is Jesus Christ.