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Is Life Without Parole Worse Than Death?

I am an alienist reincarnated, and poetry keeps me sane.

As for me, I am a so-called psychiatrist who witnessed society deposit its “patients” inside of a prison, transporting me back in time to the era of the alienist. Thus, the knot of causes in which I am entangled” has recurred and created me again. I am the recurrence from the past, sending a message into the future. I am an alienist reincarnated, and poetry keeps me sane.

The Compact

Society: “Remove these men from our fold.”

Prison: How much misery do you require?

Society: “Enough that they writhe in guilty anguish, yet do not seek a final exit.”

Prison: A most delicate balance! Do you think it wise to cultivate such despair?

Society: “We cannot lose our bearings. Our obligation is to the law-abiding. This is the way that we will all progress.”

Prison: How will we show our progress without exposing the blight of the miserable?

Society:” We must count on you for cosmetic aid. Conceal all blemishes as best you can.”

Prison: Leviticus is damned! And if an unsightly flaw emerges despite our efforts?

Society: “We cannot lose our bearings. Our obligation is to the law-abiding. This is the way that we will all progress.”

Prison: How will we show our progress without exposing the blight of the miserable?

Society: “We must count on you for cosmetic aid. Conceal all blemishes as best you can.”

Prison: Leviticus be damned! And if an unsightly flaw emerges despite our efforts?

Society: “We must renounce our pact with you and express our disapproval.”

Prison: A pariah in oblivion. How will we endure our exile?

Society: “With the knowledge that wretchedness has its place in the status quo.”

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