Good Friday Poem written recently by David Atwood (sent to & by Bill Pelke who was there with Dave Atwood and Sister Helen Prejean, as I understand it, when James was executed.)
Were you there?
Were you there when they put my friend to death?
Were you there when they put my friend to death?
Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they put my friend to death?
Were you there when they took him from his cell?
Were you there when they took him from his cell?
Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they took him from his cell?
Were you there when they strapped him down to die?
Were you there when they strapped him down to die?
Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they strapped him down to die?
Were you there when they stuck the needles in?
Were you there when they stuck the needles in?
Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they stuck the needles in?
Were you there when he uttered his last words?
Were you there when he uttered his last words?
Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when he uttered his last words?
Were you there when he gasped and spoke no more?
Were you there when he gasped and spoke no more?
Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when he gasped and spoke no more?
Were you there when they laid him in the grave?
Were you there when they laid him in the grave?
Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they laid him in the grave?
David Atwood
Good Friday, April 10, 2009
Dedicated to James, Dominique, Richard, Anthony and the 431 other prisoners who have been killed by the state of Texas since 1982.
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