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Jail Mail Prison Pen Pals Shane Runkle

Jail Mail Prison Pen Pals

Hi!

My name is Shane. Thank you for reading my ad. Let me dispense with the surface details first. I'm 30 years old with short blond hair and blue eyes and I'm about 5'9", 160 lbs. I have no children and have never been married, but not because I didn't want to do both... I just never settled down long enough to put down roots.

I'm an avid reader and prolific writer of poetry and fiction. I've always loved both reading and writing and find they are excellent means for me to both deal with difficult emotions, and when I can't deal with them, to "escape" for a little while.

The people who know me best would tell you I'm honest, intelligent, caring, giving, creative, sensitive, open-minded, and impulsive. Far too prideful and independent, also. If I had asked for help I never would have wound up here.

I believe honesty is essential, so I want to tell you why I'm incarcerated: "Burglary with a Battery". Essentially I was in someone's house when they came home and we wrestled for a couple of minutes. I didn't hurt him, but the mandatory punishment for me is a life sentence because it's not my first time in trouble. I'm confident I can get a lower sentence on appeal.

In addition to reading and writing, I enjoy softball, volleyball, handball, weightlifting, playing chess, and exercising my mind in any way I can.

I'm putting a poem with this ad that I wrote on 6/15/03. At the time I thought it was about love, but have since realized that it's about life. Mine, at least. I hope that you like it!

I think I'll end this for now with the hope that I'll hear from you soon.
Take care of yourself.

Jail Mail Prison Pen Pals Address:
Shane T. Runkle #D01861
Liberty Correctional Institution
I-3-1-2 upper
11064 NW Dempsey Barron Road
Bristol, FL 32321


Jail Mail Prison Pen Pals Birthdate: June 17/1973

Jail Mail Prison Pen Pals Expected Date of Release: Life sentence on appeal

Jail Mail Prison Pen Pals

"My Harbinger of Sorrow"

Forever I've searched,
And often I've found,
But always I leave,
Shattered dreams on the ground,
Swearing each time,
"This time is the last,"
The next time I feel it
I'll flee bullet-fast,
But I never do,
For the search is my all,
Without it I'll die,
Yet with it I'll fall,
And keep falling until
I find it again,
My harbinger of sorrow,
My old, old friend.

Jail Mail Prison Pen Pals

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