I was born

February the seventh

Nineteen ninety-seven

Pushed out by my mother

But crafted

By our Lord and savior

From Heaven

I’m a human being

Not a beast

From the fields

So why am I locked up

In a cage

Held ransom on a bond so high

Question to the government

“Keep it real”

I’m locked in my cell

Twenty-two and a half hours

A day

Fed through a slot

Away from my family

With tears streaming

Down my face

Waiting on the court

But they won’t

Give me a date

Depression is getting over on me

I’m starting to lose

This fight

I’m stressed to the point

Where it’s hard to sleep

At night

Not speaking

Just for myself

But on the behalf

of other inmates

When you’re behind

These walls

There’s a mental and physical

Struggle everday

So I’m turning to the world

With tears of an inmate

                   Ghost