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"On both sides of the glass"

When I was a child around the age of eight,
I can remember visiting my dad beyond a massive gate.
A place they call prison is where his home was to be,
his sentence was somewhere around ninety-three;
Years that is...
I can remember he was my one true friend,
and for those weekend visits to see him; then he was gone again.
But the hardest part for me was riding home with my grandmother (her eyes were always full of tears),

that was something I saw over the next ten years.
Finally the pain was too great more then she could stand,
now she walks with God hand in hand.
On the day we buried her beyond the green bluffs,
there stood my dad in a pair of handcuffs.
Although her tears had stopped that day,
what it did to my dad I've never seen that way.
For eight more years he still had to go,
before he was granted a thing called parole.
When he got out I was in trouble then,
and he helped me out my one true friend.
I've always been in and out of trouble with fists that rage,
and I wonder if it's because I saw my dad in a cage.
Whatever it is I must stop one way or another,
because I know all of this is hurting my poor ol mother.
I don't want to have that look I saw on my dads face,
when God decides to take her to that glorious place.
So all I can do is pray to thee
in hopes of one day that I'll be free.
And make a change that I'm in need of,
God please help me with your great love.
On both sides of the glass oh what its done to me.

Learn more about this author, Stacy Baker.
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