Finkelstein’s comment:

A few months ago I started corresponding with a Palestinian-American who is serving time for second-degree murder.  He was 16 years old when he went to prison.  He’s now 20, and still has to serve several more years.  He recently wrote me that he’d given up on friendship after his only two friends abandoned him.  He then sent me this poem which I am posting with his permission.

***

A Jailed Bird’s Plaint

As the leaves change colors, And the wind picks up

Beneath the shadow of the sunset, perhaps beneath the bed sheets

Fast my mind can run, away from thoughts of you, 

To other thoughts of you,

Looking for a friend

I find no one in sight, I hear nobody close, nor smell somebody near, 

Ring ring all the numbers on the list

Yet not a single answer,

Tonight’s a lonely one for sure,

Who can I love, who can I love?

Anyone but myself,

A lonely night for sure

I tried to make a friend, to get over a friend

Now two friends I have to get over,

Over the clouds I know there lies a sun,

that loves everyone, no matter what you’ve done,

beneath the clouds I lie

With raindrops in my eyes,

To blend in with the tears, of living my nightmares,

Then the clouds drift away,

and the stars come to stay,

By the morning they are gone, just like everyone.