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Corn Cribs and Prisoners An old, empty corn crib sits alone in a field, Neglected, unused, deserted, and crude. Can it be that buildings are treated like people, Left to age and crumble in their solitude? Life starts out, full of hope and promise; Hearts are warm and look forward to each day. Life is made rich, touched by family and friends, Walking along with joy in our way. It’s very rewarding to have a family and job; There’s great pride in always doing one’s best. Hard work and honesty keep order in life; Without them, failure will creep into your nest. There are always a few who take the wrong road, Or are led astray when they should have been strong. Their minds wander away from what God wanted for them, And they end up being separated for the things they did wrong. An old, empty corn crib sits alone in a field, Its neglect a symbol of the price man must pay. Perhaps with time, hindsight, and the hand of God, The corn crib will fill, and man will have a new day. Fred Little Iowa State Prison, Fort Madison, Iowa


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