I Want To Write 

            By Miguel

I want to write to turn insanity into clarity,
write to a convict on death row
and have tears roll off his cheeks.
I want my words to reach the inner
chambers of a frozen heart and let it thaw.
I want to write to a woman who has seen it all
and had enough hardships and turn them into soft voyages.
If I could, I would write to life and
let it know
it's playing a novice while it's a pro
in a game only itself knows.
I wish I could write to who I was four
years ago
to say: take it slowly, cuz if not...well you already know.
I want to write words to express
all of the stress you gain from such a test
of having your freedom taken away
by no other than yourself.
I want to write for help but I'm scared of
the one who will send it.
I want to write to a young mother
to let her see how much harder I made her
stay here,
but still she WILL reap the benefits
you can only gain from having kids.
I just want to write until carpal tunnel takes
over my wrist...and hard,
and I'll either become left handed or the
loudest man
to say what I have to say
because the world is my stand.
I want to write...

Where Do I Belong 

            By Dominque

Where do I belong?
Life is confusing,
and I've been trying forever to find out where I belong.
I have learned that to know where I belong
I have to know who I am.
I have to look inside my heart
and find myself.
This is hard
because I have taken so many roles in my life,
I don't know which one is really me
or if any of them are.
I have more than one side,
and I get mixed up in them
so I don't know who I really am
or where I belong.

Untitled 

            By Aaron

You may not know me, but you know of me. You've heard about me. You have seen me and possibly talked about me.
I want to see a way out, not a dream shattered by society.
I have lived in silence, learned it was a mistake trying to reach further. I ended up incarcerated.

I Am Thinking

            By Angel

Pedro, P-Boy, my only friend.
I remember all of the good stuff we did.
I miss the days we chilled.
I now see my family in pain for some things that could have been prevented.
I miss you my brother.
How you loved to race.
Why did you have to die this way?

Day by day, night-by-night I count my days as they go by.
I cry with no tears coming down.
There is so much madness I have found.
The pain I bring to the ones that I love,
I hope they forgive me for the problems I have brought.
I sit in my cell thinking of what I have done,
not once or twice but a million times.

In and out, I live with trust.
Mother, mother will you hear these words I have to say.
Mother, mother will you please forgive me
for the promises I broke on Mother's Day.
I thank you for being there on a jail day.
I am ashamed.
I pray every night to the mighty God to give me one more chance.
It was a one-time mistake.
Mother, mother
I am sorry for not being there on Mother's Day.

I miss my mom.
I miss my sisters.
Don't cry, don't cry, that will break my heart.
My spirit is here to comfort you all while I am gone.
Don't cry, don't cry,
the Lord is watching over you.
I pray every night and ask the Lord to bless you all.

My life is like a book,
a never ending story with different characters.
I have been good and bad.
I have passed.
Now I am in an orange suit
wondering when they will let me out.
I am starving myself until the let me out.
I am looking at pictures and reading mail over and over again.
I know it is time to change or this will be where I will stay.

I cry, I cry all day long.
I cry, I cry until I get lost.
I cry, I cry until new tears come.
I cry, I cry until I fall.
I cry, I cry for something I have lost.

When I was twelve was the first time I smoked a blunt.
When I was thirteen,
it was the first time I left my house.
When I was fourteen,
I was on the streets all day long getting money.
When I was fifteen,
I was in rehab but not for too long.
Now I am sixteen and in jail for the first time.
I know I have to change my ways
or I won't live for too long.

I had the privilege of freedom,
until one day I lost it all.

I had the privilege to be with my family,
until the law took everything I loved.

I know now that life is something you have to value,
but protecting my family was all I was trying to do,
that's all this ghetto child was trying to do,
trying to protect his family.
Judge,
please don't look at me as a criminal.
I have a good heart.
I am human.

Telephone, telephone
please don't let me cry today.
Phone, phone,
please don't have a collect call blocked today.
Phone, phone,
please let me speak to my family this day.
Phone, phone,
this is all I ask you this very day.

Mother, mother why did you lie to me?
Mother, mother I thought you were going to put money in my commissary.
Mother, mother I know I have to be independent.
I love you my mother,
but it is time for me to be a man.

I dream
that one day I will come down the stage
with a high school diploma.
I want my mom to be happy.
I dream of going to college,
and of having my love be my wife some day.

Where Is Home

            By Casey

I lived my life too fast and too crazy.
Everyday I walked the streets of the Roc
and I saw things I never expected to see
and I did things I never expected to do.

I am seventeen years old
spending months in jail with people I barely know,
eating food I don't eat,
and sharing thoughts with strange people.

My home was on my block

I barely went home,
stayed on the block until I felt like I wanted to leave,
stayed chilling,
drinking,
and wasting my life.

I see myself
either trying to get larger
or trying to get myself prepared for the worst that can happen to me.
Do I really have to worry about anything?
I have my mom, Brenda, tattooed on my right hand,
and my grandma, Pecola, tattooed on my left hand.
They will never leave my side.

When I was thirteen years old
my mother left me.
She had walking pneumonia and AIDS.
My grandmother passed away in 2005.
She was very ill, and she tried to stay strong.
My mother and my grandmother will always be by my side.

I never knew God would let me live to see another day.
I never knew
I could feel so lonely inside.
I never knew my mans was going to leave me
when it was time to ride.
I never knew my mom and grandma
were going to stick with me, be by my side.
I never knew I was going to live my life in the streets.
I never knew I was going to play the block with the heat.
I never knew
I was going to be in jail from living my life in the streets.
I never knew
I was wasting my life day by day in the streets.

I have a confession to make.
I will not eat.
I will not sleep.
I think about my moms and ask myself when we will meet.
I ask myself every day why I lived my life in the streets.

Why can't a young Black kid like me go to school
instead I stayed in the streets and played with my handy, dandy toys.
It was a rule I lived by, a code I went by.
I ask myself why do I go through all that stress.
People test me from the heart, and God bless me from the heart.
Me, my grandma, and my mom will meet again
and no one will ever tear us apart.

Jail Bird Song

            By Sam

You see me, a young man who has been through the struggle,
who has been corrupted by crime
and drugs,
and who was always in trouble,
who was always getting put down,
who did not know which way was up.
When I went to sleep, all I wanted was to be hugged.
My family was all out of shape,
misplaced and misguided.
I walked around with a lot of hurt,
tried to hide it,
denied it.
The fact was I was by myself,
had no food,
no love,
no wealth.
I dreamed of no more drama, but it never came true.
I had bad karma,
the life I lived was not always right.
I was denied the simple pleasure of a family.
My mom did what she knew,
got on her grind,
slipped up,
and got caught.
She did her time.

I never thought my life would end up like this.
I moved from family to family
just to get one gift, love.
I always walked around like I didn't exist,
like I didn't care if I died
because I wouldn't be missed.
Frankly, it has been this way for years.
I'm eighteen and not a baby,
but I am still shedding tears.
My world is cold.
I should know that holding beef is a reality.
Make it through today
despite the heat
and know that tomorrow is never taken for granted.
Waking up alive,
taking life for granted,
living wrong,
now I wonder why I'm singing a jail song.

See What I See

            By Sam

I see kids grow up in a facility like this.
I see grown men get pulled down.
I see fear grow to an extent that horrifies my mind.
I see Black kids become animals of jail.
I see great minds become useless in months.
I see depression take over young men's lives.
I see stress turn men into beasts.
I see beasts turn into the devil himself.
I see many young men become another young man's slave.
I see a mother's worry turn into an illness.
I see kids deprived of their pride and souls.
I see all of this.
This is just jail, and that's it.

Dark Hole

            By Derrick

The place where I live
is a dark hole,
and I am all alone.
There is no one to care for me,
or no one to love.
I have lived my life in and out of lock up
since I was thirteen,
and when I wasn't locked up
I lived my life in the streets playing the block or running a spot.
In the streets
I had to worry about beef and even more the police.
Ghost town,
that's where I live.

The streets and the block
were the only way of life I knew.

My heart is colder than sandwich meat.
Home to me is wherever it is safe.

I am living my life in an orange suit in jail right now.
Right now my home is jail.
I am trying to move on with my life,
trying to move from here.

My Place         

            By Laurice

I don't have a place in the world
because everywhere I go
is not where I want to be.
Everyone I love
disappears and leaves.
Sometimes
I think I fit in places
but one minute someone is my friend,
but then another minute
they are not.

I fit in with my children
because they are a part of me.
Sometimes
I can't believe
that they are free.

I am lonely every day.
I get up in the morning in a cage.
I can't see the day.
I am by myself
with no one to talk to.
Lonely hurts.

I lost a life.
There was no way I just did.
My son, the oldest of eleven, was five years old.
I have eight boys and three girls.
I never knew my place in life until the first one's head popped out.
Then I knew I was a father.
And just like that five years later he was taken for no reason.

Sometimes
I want to give up.
Something stops me.
Life itself stops me.
I have ten other children who deserve a father.

You are gone my little one.
I wish there was a way to bring you back.
I cry all day,
and I cry all night for some way to bring you back.
You are gone, and it hurts.
You are gone.
My five year old son, you are covered with dirt.

Listen to my heart my son.
You were the beat.
You were life coming out of me.
Now my heart beat has been taken away.
It is no more.

I am lost with nowhere to go.
It is like I am holding on with a rope.
It feels like life is slipping away without saying goodbye.

Sometimes I am scared
to shut my eyes for the night.
I don't know if they will open the next day.

For ten years I have been on my own
with no where to sleep,
no where to eat.
My eyes have bags under them
from all the restless nights.
I am tired.
My soul is weak.

I know I am on my own.

Things are hard.
Sometimes I think I am doing the right thing but I am not.
In some people's minds right is when I went to jail.

I am nineteen years old.
I have ten children.
I have seven boys and three girls.
I love them more than I love myself.

It is dark, cold, wet, and lonely.
The only thing I see are cages and the outline of my cell.
Sometimes
I hope to feel the air outside.
In a cell there is nowhere to run,
there is no where to hide,
there are no games but cards.

I am scared
because some people tell me I am going home,
and some people tell me I am going upstate.
I am surrounded by nowhere to run.

I don't dream.
Life is not what it seems.
I live in between broken dreams.

I don't dream.
I don't have dreams. 

Why can't I dream,
is it because my dreams cannot come true?

I don't dream
because it's not where I bleed.
I don't dream
because when I close my eyes
there is a pitch black light behind my eye lids.

I'm in jail
locked up without a key.
I'm locked up without a dream,
scared to sleep,
scared to eat.
I am in jail, not a place I want to be.
I'm in jail.

I feel so alone, so empty.
It seems like being filled with blackness and evil
is better than being filled with nothing at all.

Life was so painful
that it couldn't have been worse
if I had been covered with boils from my head to my feet.

No one who has not been there can possibly understand.

Where Do I Fit In

            By Alton

I fit in on St. Paul and Norton
where everyone is family
and we feel each other's pain. 

We are all family.

Everyone sells drugs.
We all know what it feels like to have money,
to lose somebody,
to be in jail.
We all have kids.
We all can't see where we are going in the future.

Sometimes
I feel like
I am staring down the barrel of a gun.

Truthfully
home is where I lay my head.
I know what it feels like to hurt.

Jail

            By Lavonne

It is hard
knowing
the time you are going to serve
is time
from your life.

It is cold at night.