I am truly sorry, but I won’t be home for Christmas. This breaks my heart more than anything.

I guess we can still be pen pals for a while longer. I knew I handled this wrong
from the beginning.

When the court system only looks at any little thing wrong you do, you just
can’t win. I was in here with a black guy who stabbed someone. He had the same counselor
and admitted the counselor did not make him finish his thinking reports or his
books. He also had the same judge and he got probation. The judge could not
believe what a great program he did, never seen one that good.

He got to my rider and said it was average to below average. He had planed on
sending me to prison before I ever went on a rider.

I really don’t want you to feel bad about that, It’s just the way it is.
I will be fine. The place they are sending me, that I know of, is like another
program part of the prison. I won’t be locked up with hard core people from what
I understand it will be easy and the time will fly by. I will try and get my
back fixed while I’m there. I am not giving up on any thing.

~Joe

I happened upon this song today by Mark Heard who is whose music I’ve been looking into.  It seems so very appropriate and reminds me of my brother’s struggles with injustice.

LONELY MOON

by Mark Heard.

Was a child and a newcomer to the ways of the world
Eyes ablaze with the light of high noon
Just to love and to be loved was all he wanted
By the light of the lonely moon

They taught him to capture and tame wild pathos
Sold him distractions and made every day seem the same
Caught the Holy Ghost lurking in his cellar and threw Him out
Leaving just a lonely name

Soon they took everything that he lived for
So he asked them to please take his life too
They denied him existence but they let him live
In a lonely room

He would suckle at the bosom of Mother Earth
But his experience poisons that thought
He falls prey somehow
To the silence of the deep-space dark
Of this lonely blue rock

Now his path is lit only by the light of falling stars
The embers fall to scorch and cut his face
He wants to believe in his unbelief
In a lonely place

But they buried his conscience
Near to the grave of God
Sealed his soul up in a tomb of tears
And they scattered his ashes East of Eden someplace
On a lonely breeze

Was a child and a newcomer to the ways of the world
Eyes ablaze with the light of high noon
Just to love and to be loved was all he needed
By the light of the lonely moon
By the light of the lonely moon

From Second Hand
Back to Mark Heard Lyric Project