George wrote this not too long ago-it is one of my favorites…

Oh forgotten one. I have walked the halls of many many prisons. Prisons old and new. I have seen fresh blood pooled on a new tile floor. I have stared at blood, dried and stained upon old corrider walls. I’ve seen the story of a man’s heart. Watching… in time, I’ve even seen it beat.
There is no end to these prison halls, at least from where I stand looking.
In one hallway I noticed a plaque stating, “Built in 1909″. Next to the plaque was a door; locked, with no keyholes. Only way to open it was with words. I begged that it open, it did, with one word, “please”. When I entered, there was nothing there but a large pond. I stood before it. Standing there, my throat began to swell. Standing there, I began to shake. Standing there, I began to weep. Standing there, I watched as my tears added to the pond.
When no tears were left, I backed away… In time, the door opened again, and another, with a number as I, entered. He stood where I stood. He wept as I had wept.
It was a pond of sorrow; a place where men such as we come. Men such as I must weep too. If we were not to shed this pain, it would harden. Harden as the hall I walk.

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