George Martorano -Federal Inmate

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Read some of George's latest writings and letters - creative to say the least - why let this talent be "caged" any longer

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BLAME Poor stars. Poor stars High, looking down alas she wont be found How she lived. How she dance Loves she had; the very meaning of romance She so enjoyed the spot, how true when it was such a bright stary night Poor stars. Poor stars And we search the land below Little did we know. One crushed her soul Told of ways, ways of long troubled days Told her lies with clover in her hair Told her she will always be his dear Poor stars. Poor stars These nights are but a bore Oh she was such a Heavenly lore She smiled after every kiss, no matter how breathless nor bliss She even had a laugh, up it traveled.....echoing, echoing as it passed Poor stars, Poor stars Will she ever return; must we burn and burn so bright; waiting for her one night? Her name doesnt matter; her being is the fame. Oh what a shame We poor stars......could we be the blame?



Terrible's End Terrible, there, the flowers I will never see Terrible, are the colors and sweet smells taken away from me Long are the night with myself and , long so long this continuous sigh Short are the memories of love, please oh Lord I must remember why My heart beats to a cruel drum, my heart wants, needs just a bit of sun Lips alone, arms so bare can it be never aday of sweat, care Oh where oh where are you my dear? Yes, terrible there is no hill to climb Yes, terrible this caged life of mine Terrible is all I know, like a blood river to flow and flow Terrible, there, the flowers I will never see Touch of the devil clamped down on me Touch of ways my my misery’s glee Touch of the devil need the moon and thee Soon oh soon I shall walk into a room Soon oh soon my lips will taste all that can be….. That fresh lace upon thee, wear it just for me.