Prison Poems
By the Check Point We walk past weeping women, we walk, stepping in silence, we don’t dare say a word to them, we can not wave our hands to them, we walk, and on their shoulders— knapsacks of tobacco and …
By the Check Point We walk past weeping women, we walk, stepping in silence, we don’t dare say a word to them, we can not wave our hands to them, we walk, and on their shoulders— knapsacks of tobacco and …