State-administered death is always a greater horror than any other by virtue of the methodical reasoning that precedes it. French philosopher Albert Camus wrote that "capital punishment is the most premeditated of murders". "The United States' concept of justifiable homicide/Executions in criminal law stands on the dividing line between an excuse, justification and an exculpation. In other words, it takes a case that would otherwise have been a murder or another crime representing intentional killing, and either excuses or justifies the individual accused from all criminal liability or treats the accused differently from other intentional killers.

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Hello to those of you that have decided to pay my page a visit. I have placed three of my poems on here for your viewing pleasure. I have been writing for a while now and I notice they are better when I write from experience.

If you like any of the three or feel like having a pen-pal you can always write me at:

Franklin Davis #999585

Polunsky Unit D. R. 

3872 FM 350 South 

Livingston, Texas 77351 USA

For a first contact you also can use FranklinDavis@deathrow-texas.com, please leave a postal address for response. Thank you. 

 

      Poems by Franklin Davis 

December 2016

NIGHTMARE

 

 A nightmare is defined as a bad dream or a bad subconscious experience. Can you even imagine living out your worst nightmare? I can. I have been living out mines since July 14, 2011. It stared on a Thursday around 1: 22 pm. That was the day I was arrested for four charges of which I did not commit. When I was first accused of four counts of sexual assault I kind of took it as a joke. Things got serious pretty fast

My accuser story had changed four times in two days. First I was accused of swatting my hand but missing her butt. Then I was accused of trying to have sex with her, of having sex with her, then of having sex with her four times. These was just the beginning of her many lies. Each time her step father would call me accusing me of even worse things than before. Her mother told me it didn’t matter if I done it or not she was still going to send me to jail for it.

She said "You want be able to be around your own kids whenever you do get out of jail" I knew then what I had to do. I told them not to call my phone anymore. Early the next morning I went to the mesquite, TX police station to inform them on what was going on. What guilty man does that? Three whole days later my accuser and her parents done the same thing

My accuser outcry witness was her best friend. In her police report she wrote "The story she told me and the one she told my mom was not the same. Her story had changed" You would think that would make the detective question her more but he didn't. I was a 220 Ibs muscular black man. In his opinion I was guilty without him having to do any real work. 24 days after my wedding I was arrested. I made bail a month later. I realized then that I had loss everything I had worked so hard to obtain. My car, job, money and respect from others was all gone. Even the respect I had for myself had faded away. Unable to find another job I had to sit at home and depend on my wife to financially take care of everything. I felt like a penny with whole in it, worthless

My beautiful wife end I had just got married that June. We was supposed to be in that newly-wed phase but instead I was fighting my suicidal thoughts. I was constantly thinking of ways to kill myself. I was a little confused even though I knew exactly what I wanted, if that makes sense at all. I knew that I wanted to die but wasn't sure how. I wanted to feel something
so it couldn
't be painless. Neither did I want it to be to painful of a death. I would keep to myself and sit in my apartment alone in the dark. Eventually I started running sharp razors up and down my flesh cutting the skin. Each time I would cut deep enough to draw blood, later I would hope my wife would not notice the scars. She never did. This behavior was completely
ou
t of character for me

I could only sleep four hours a day. Those four hours was spread throughout the day. Inside my mind I couldn’t even find a place to rest. There is no prison like the prison one can place his self. I was slowly falling to pieces. A few major events happened and I was finally push over the ledge

I grew up without nice clothes and shoes so I promised my kids they would never have to go through that. Once I had to use tape to prevent the sole of my shoes from fa11ing off. I was visiting my youngest daughter where she lived with her mother. She was playing with some kids outside while I watched her. I love to see her beautiful smile. I notice something wrong with her right shoe so I called her over. I said "Baby girl, what’s that on the side of your shoe?" I could tell she was embarrassed because her beautiful smile had faded "that’s my sock" then she stuck her sock back into the whole

I felt like a failure. 

I turned my back to her because I didn't want her to see me cry. The false charges wasn’t only affecting my life but the life of my love ones as well. All I had was sixty dollars to my name an I bought her a pair of shoes with it. She deserved it. Seeing my baby shoes made me want to fight. I searched Facebook until I found a profile picture of a guy I knew my accuser would
like. I contacted her using that guy name and told her where she could go see a photo of me(him). Her social media page was full of life. Selfies, vacation pictures and pictures of her hanging with friends filled her page. Here she was living her life while I was barely existing. She seemed not to have a worry in the world while I had the weight of the world on my shoulders.
Every conversation I had with her I recorded. I wanted to use them to prove my innocence when I went to trial. After two days I asked her to tell me a secret. 

She said "I've been sexually assaulted three times" then she went on to tell me how each one had happened. I had caught her in multiple lies. Her statement to the police stated that she had been assaulted four times not three. The details of one of the assaults was the same as the police report. A true rape victim would remember if it happened in the bathroom standing up or laying down on the bed. Trying to remember a lie you told in the past becomes harder to remember with time. I tried to convince myself that I would soon have my life back but who was I kidding. Getting my life back was like trying to remember a love that I never had. It wasn't going to happen. Too much mental damage had been done. No one can completely
understand what an innocent man goes through when he is accused
of a nasty crime like I was. I was still stressing and couldn't sleep longer than thirty   minutes at a time. 

Feeling thirsty I got out of bed to go get a bottle of water. When I walked out of the bedroom almost bumped into my mom She said " Baby boy, it aint over with jet Things are gonna get a whole lot worse"   I loss all hope as I sat down on the floor and cried. I was 15 years old when I got the news. Two of my uncle’s picked my brothers and I up from a group home we was in at the time. They told us we was having a family reunion. Since we have never had one we was pretty excited. Hours later we was given the bad news

My uncle said "I need to talk to you boys. We not gonna have a family reunion but we are gonna: have a family get together. Someone want make it though. Its yall mom. Some guy tried to rape her but she fought him off. He returned with a 12gauge shot gun 5 years later after seeing my mom in my apartment I started doing some research. Hours later I found a newspaper article on  her death. I had been lied to this whole time. Not only was she unable to fight him off but she was sodomized, raped and then murdered. I was devastated. 

When my wife got home I told her ab out my mom coming to visit me. The things I had been telling her over the past few days left her questioning my mental stability. The next day she came home on her lunch break and wanted to talk. She said "Baby I love you I do but you're stressing me out. I can't even focus on my work because I’m worried I’m going to come home and find you dead. Can you keep the things you are hearing and seeing to yourself?" 

I wanted to speak because there was so much I needed to say. At the same time I didn't want to stress her out anymore. I simply just nodded my head. She eventually got fed up with the depressed guy sitting on the couch putting on a fake smile when she came home. Slowly she was turning her back on me. She had been the glue holding me together with her optimistic views but now I was falling apart. 

Pressure burst pipes so try to imagine what an explosion would do. A massive eruption was about to happen and I couldn't do anything to stop it. Finally reaching my breaking point I snapped and killed my accuser. It was like the person I knew myself to be had been deleted. I stood outside my body watching myself do things I wouldn't do under any other circumstance. I was charged with capital murder when it should been changed with crime of passion

One of the ADA on my ease said "what he done while out on bond was like him spitting in the justice system face" I knew this was the real reason I was being charged with capital murder. The law states that capital murder is supposed to serve as a deterrent. Meaning by killing me will prevent others from doing what I had done. A man in my situation is not thinking about the law when he has become mentally and emotionally detached. what I needed was some professional help. 14 months later I was found guilty of capital murder and sentence to death

I walked onto Texas death row on November 20,2013. I was expecting to see the other inmates acting like wild animals. From the outside listening in I heard nothing but bad things  about death row inmates. We are supposed to be the worst of the worst. Now that I’m standing on the inside unable to see out I know those statements was not true. In handcuffs I was escorted to my cello I glanced into a few of the cells as I passed them. No one was standing at their door trying to see who was the new guy. Once I was alone in my cell I said "I’m on death row, none of this is real... is it? " 

Wanting to believe that I was having a bad dream I closed my eyes then pinched my arm. I wanted to wake up to find out that the last two years of my life had been a nightmare. As I opened my eyes I realized that it was a nightmare but I wasn't dreaming. Somewhere along my journey I must have got my destiny confused with someone else’s then picked up the wrong one. How could I go from being happily married, a proud father, saving to buy a house, willing to help anyone that was willing to help them self and trying to mentor young boys to death row inmate #999585. In seconds I had already made my mind up that I couldn't live like this. I formed a noose out of my sheet then I heard a knock on my table. The guy next to me was trying to get my attention. I put the noose on my bed then looked through the slim split on the left side of my door. I was able to see an eye looking back at me. 

I said "What's up?" 

"My name is Prieto" he said "Let me give you some advice. If you value your life it's best you start fighting now. Don't wait to the last minute like I did. This time next year they might be trying to put that needle in my arm" In a hour the guys in my section had sent me so much stuff that my locker box was almost full. I didn't realize it at the time but when I arrived here on death row these guys became my family. For some of us the family we once had no longer exist. None of these guys had any idea that they had saved my life just by talking to me. A year and two months later Prieto was executed on January 21, 2015. God bless the dead. 

I finally received the special that I had been waiting on for a month. At this point I had not had any human contact in two years. Unless you count when I am cuffed and being escorted somewhere. At that point the officers will hold on to my arm like in a dog on a leash

I was locked in this small room with this thin lady after they took off my cuffs. Everything in me wanted to wrap my arms around her pulling her into an embrace. I manage to restrain myself. Two years here has left me desperately needing human contact. I can't imagine how the guys with 20-30 years on their shoulders must feel. I settled for a hand shake. 

I came across this in a book I was reading

Everything has a catalyst. I've learned that from personal experience. If you was to say that I’m the same person that I was last year or the year before that then you would either be naive or lying. I might of agreed with you before my life started to crumble. People change. That's just what we do. Every experience eroded me like eons of winds and ate through me like water made canyons through solid rock. Somethimes those experiences were small. Almost imperceptible changing me in ways I didn't even notice. Other times those experiences was like a nuclear blast that reshaped me in an instant. When I finally realized it the molding process was complete. Whatever the catalyst for change, no one is the same person they had been.

 

We was about halfway through the first day when she asked "Do you hear that?" 

"Yeah" I had been trying to block out the crying for the last half hour. "I wonder what's going on" It was October 5, 2015. Juan Garcia had an execution date for the following day. It was his family member that we heard crying. I said "That guy has a date tomorrow so he's visiting his family" We met again the next day. This time it was the officers walking pass the window in full riot gear that caught our attention. Moments later they was walking by with Juan in cuffs. We locked eyes long enough to nod our head at each other. Those nods said so much

I never wanted anyone’s sympathy but I do want people to empathize with me. Call me a hypocrite but for a moment I felt sorry for him. He was ab out to murdered by the state of Texas and it was nothing he could do to stop it. Most people don't think about dying because they are too busy
living
. On death row we have to face our reality every single day. I no longer felt sorry for Juan. Suddenly I was feeling sorry for myself. Soon he would have no more stress, worries or pain but I would. He would no longer have to keep a look out for the reaper peeping into his cell but I do. He would finally be at peace while I have to continue to live in this hell. God bless the living

A loud knock on my door woke me up. I opened my eyes to see a group of officers standing at my door in riot gear. I asked "What's going on?" 

"let’s time to go" "time to go where?

No one would answer me so I knew it wasn't anything good. I was hand-cuffed then they took me over to Huntsville blind folded. I couldn't see a thing but I could tell exactly what was going on. I was being strapped down to the same gurney that had claimed five hundred plus lives before mines. The blindfold was removed before the curtains was pulled back for the viewers to witness my execution. One side held my victim parents. On the other side it was empty. Talking about not feeling loved. Why did I expect my family to show up now when they had not been here this whole time.
My wife made it clear that she was done with me from the beginning. I guess she could not put her hatred aside for the moment. I had no final words to say. I was ready to put an end to this nightmare that I been living. Would something be waiting for me on the other side? I hoped so. People was watching me from all directions. The way they was looking at me made me feel like a rare animal about to give birth. No one blinked thinking if they did they would miss my final breath. Slowly everything had faded to black as the poison was pumped into my body

When I opened my eyes I was laying down inside of a church. I sat up on the table letting my feet hang over the side. I could feel the poison still flowing through my body. Feeling a tremendous amount of pain I held my chest while grunting out in pain. The poison was not done killing me veto I was on borrowed time an sooner or later I was gonna have to give it back. I covered my mouth with the inside of my elbow and cuffed. That's when I saw the blood. The priest eyes grew big when he walked into the room “It’s a blessing from god he cried out with both hands raised toward the heavens. He rushed to my side "You're suppose to be dead son. Are you ok? I mean how are you still alive?" "How am I supposed to know that" Actually I did. My journey was not complete just yet. "Well on paper you're dead" He reached for my hand "Let’s get you out of here before someone see you. Where do your family live?" We walked out to his station wagon parked in the back so he could drop me off in Texarkana. 

After I was dropped off I got all five of my kids together. First I apologized for leaving them I grew up without a father so I missed out on a lot. I told then quotes of wisdom like " It's knowledge that guides you but it's the heart that defines you" and "There is two ways to spread the light. To be the candle or the mirror that reflects it". I answered all the questions they had for me to the best of my ability then it was time for me to leave. It was one of the hardest things lever had to do but I had two more stops to make. I hugged and kissed both of my beautiful daughters and my three handsome sons

I walked a good distance before I was able to get a ride to Dallas. As I walked to my next destination I feel over in the grass and balled up into the fetal position. My stomach felt like it was being boiled like a pot of gumbo. When the pain subsided I wiped away my tears then I saw that my tears was blood. I managed to push myself up from the ground then made my way over to the pay-phone. After I dialed the number someone picked up the phone on the second ring

She cleared her throat "hello" 

I didn't really know what to say. What do you say to the mother of the person you killed during a
psychotic break
? A break that would only send us both to an early grave

She spoke again “hello”
 
"I ...  "who is this?"

I finally found my words "This if FrankI wanted to-"
"hold on
. Frank who?" "Davis. I know it's hard to believe after what you witness this
morning but-
She said "Please find someone else to play with" then she hung up

It's a quote that goes "Believe none of what you hear and only half of what you see" I pressed the doorbell then took two steps back. I was sure I looked like a mad man slightly hunched over holding my stomach with traces of bloody tears on my face. I looked how I felt for so long ... dead. I said "can we talk" after I saw a finger pull down the blinds and a huge set of eyes looking back at me. She said: “I have no words for you but my gun do " then the blinds closed

I was in a lot of pain but the poison had not affected my common sense. I walked away from there as fast as I could. I believe everyone has a thin line in the sand. On one side is the things that they will never be able to forgive. I crossed that line by a few feet. I understand why she could not forgive me because I could not forgive myself

Walking into my old apartment complex I spotted my wife car. I hit the driver side door setting off the alarm. Jaye and I had not spoken to each other in years. The whole situation was too hard for her to deal with. She never mentioned it but I’m sure she felt like some of what had happened was also her fault. She knew the condition my mind was in when she turned her back on me. Feeling vindictive she took the stand against to to convince the jury that I was a future danger. She could of prevented me from drowning but instead she push my head under the water. I hated everything about her as I watched her lie with a straight face. Those eyes that I use to stare into, I hated them. Her full lips that I loved to kiss, I hated them to. Most of all I hated that I still loved her

Making my way up the steps I heard the ear alarm turn off. On the final flight of steps I was able to see her face, then we locked eyes. My legs was threatening to give out on me. She put her hands over her mouth that was hanging wide open. I was not sure if the look on her face was terror or shock. I guess in this case both was one in the same

Always having a sense of humor I said "would you like my autograph?" She pulled her hands away from her mouth "The news said you was dead" "I look it don't I?" 

Whatever she was feeling at first was gone. It was replaced with anger. She folded her arms across her chest. "I moved on with my life so what are you doing here?" I explained to her what had happened in Huntsville and the different stops I made along my journey before coming to see her. She said "Vou don't expect me to believe that do you? You escaped again didn't you?" I leaned against the rail letting myself slowly slide down until I was sitting with my legs stretched out in front of me. I took my right shoe off peeling the bloody sock from my foot. Finally getting off my feet allowed my legs to go numb. 

She closed her eyes after seeing the condition my foot was in. She opened then when she heard me grunt out of pain. The pain in my chest and stomach was getting unbearable. Jaye dropped to her knees then held my hand to console me. When I looked into her eyes they was filled with tears. One by one they begun to fall. Even with all of the pain I was in all I wanted was to stop her tears from falling. I said "I understand why you turned your back on me. The weight got too heavy to carry. It was too heavy for the both of us together. I was mad that you lied in court but I understand that to. I took a life because she had ruined mines. I wanted to hurt her more then she had hurt me. Your hatred caused you to hurt me as well. I should of accepted that fact that happiness to me is just one big illusion. I’m sorry for leaving you. I forgive you and I hope you can one day find it in your heart to forgive me too. She said "Baby I do forgive you. I love you so much" She placed her hand on the back of my head then pulled me to her chest. " Let’s get you inside and get you cleaned up so we can start all over again. Would you like that?" 

It was then that she felt my grip on her hand was limp. I was unable to reply to her because I was no longer one with my body. I was floating behind her looking down on her holding my body. All the pain I once felt was gone. She pushed my head back so she could see my face. Black poisoned blood was flowing from my mouth

When I woke up I realized I was crying in my sleep. Thinking about my dream made me cry even harder. Then I started crying because I was still in this tiny cell on Texas death row. I thought I was finally free. Living is a difficult and subtle art. Sometimes we don’t get to take those physical journeys that we can only dream of because reality have restrictions. The subconscious mind allows us to travel unknown distances without any restraints at all. The mind is a beautiful thing

Still to this day I sleep in small intervals. It has been five and a half years since my life has crumbled. Four of those I been in prison. I don’t think a day has went by without me thinking of my victim. I don't think about how her lies destroyed my life. I think about her life and the things she would have accomplished. Would she had played basketball in college, one of the sports she loved. Would she had someday became a mother? Her accomplishments would of been endless. A nightmare is defined as a bad dream or a bad subconscious experience. But the real nightmares are the ones you can’t wake up from

December 2016

by Franklin Davis

Franklin Davis #999585 
Polunsky Unit D. R. 
3872 FM 350 South 
Livingston, Texas 77351 USA
For a first contact you also can use FranklinDavis@deathrow-texas.com, please leave a postal address for response. Thank you. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

" Committed to the Fight for HumanRights"

" Dem Kampf um Menschenrechte gewidmet "

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