A/N: This is about the death penalty i.e. capital punishment. If it's not obvious, I oppose the death penalty.

Please, no flames.

They passed their verdict
The public calls this "true justice".
Justice indeed.
This is supposed to be America;
Land of hope,
Of second chances.

But they don't believe in rebirth
Or second chances.
Only eternal damnation
And an eye for an eye.

They call me a murderer
And tell me how much fun I'll have
Rotting in Hell.

But I'm only a victim of circumstance.

When I found that gun in her room
And confronted her about it
And slammed it angrily on the table;
I had no knowledge that it was loaded.
It said it was on safety,
But it was defective.
And the way I held it
In my horror
My terror
My sadness;
Made it seem as though I had just shot her
With the intention
To kill her.

Tears rim my eyes
As I sit
Solemnly in my cell
Waiting for them to take me to that room
And tie me to that chair
As they inject their toxins
Into my blood stream.

And my dying wish is to have this paper,
The one I hold timidly in my hand,
Placed peacefully on my daughter's grave.
I hold back violent tremors of sorrow.
They've come for me.
And I hand it to the jail warden.
He gives me a look of sympathy
And promises to place it at her grave.

I sit in that cold, metal chair;
They tighten the straps around my limbs.
I am no longer holding back
My tears
And they flow freely
Down my face.
And they inject the poison.
And I can feel myself slowly floating away...

And the jail warden keeps his promise,
And takes that paper to her grave
Placing it lightly on top of the stone.
As the breeze catches it
And it silently flitters to the ground
Like a butterfly's wings
It reveals two words
That I had inscribed on that torn piece of paper-
"I'm sorry".