Another letter from your death box

Another letter in the mailbox,
from many distant shores
filled with tears and regrets,
of younger years,
and mistakes you can't take back.
YOu took another's life,
and now you owe yours to the state,
it's sad i say,
because your life's a total waiste,
yet you've changed mine, my dear friend,
from where you sit in your self made coffin,
drowning in your tears,
the fears of that lethal injection
they want to put so badly in your veins,
and i could cry at night for them to stop
but what good would it do?
They don't think you're a man,
they think you're a beast,
should i say different, should i stand up for you?
I know you, and you're real,
a warm hearted person for whom I grew to care,
when i too thought you to be cruel.
What good can i do from all this bad you've done?
I want to be there for you,
comfort you in your last days,
take away the 'not knowing' if you'll have a tomorrow,
but i'm just a simple girl,
still learning to be me.
Tell me how i can change this?
How can i break you free from your death box?
This is killing me.