At times, I look back at my life

To see what could have been done

To undo some of the terrible strife

In my wicked and horrid life.

I look at a photo of a man I once knew,

The man I hated so much and maybe maimed.

I had beaten him black and blue,

And stabbed him, it was claimed.

But I have no memory of this act

But the police had thought it was me.

When they told me, I was taken aback,

As if I had been stung by a bee.

I went to court for my trail,

For something I thought I didn't do.

The prosecution said I was in denial,

But he would pursue.

The case went on, and I'm the accused.

But then it ended, with me in a cell;

They found my DNA on a bruise.

And now I'm going to Hell