Anger and Animosity: a poem

Jail shouldn’t be comfortable

We get that

But living and being treated

Like a savage

Not with that

Put yourselves

In our shoes

And let us

Be you

So you could really understand

The pain

We go through

The feelings of an inmate

Are hard to explain

I’m talking about built up

Mental, emotional and physical pain

And being locked behind

These doors

Could really drive you insane

For the way jail is run

We have the sheriff

To blame

With these crazy

Ass rules

And nasty ass food

Now video visitation

I mean really,

Who the fuck

ARE you?!

We don’t like visitation

From behind the glass

So my advice to

You, GTL, and our camera:

Go kiss an ass

I speak for the whole

Jail population

When I say

I’m against the shit

To the jail

And the sheriff’s department

We’re tired of

Your shit

Fuck the government

And all

I truly mean this

And I hope you get mad

By the time you’re done reading this.

-Ghost

‘Within Arm’s Reach of the Belly of the Beast’

Can’t Incarcerate Faith: a poem

Wrongfully locked up in a place so DARK most listen to the devil speak, still I fear NONE except the one who sacrificed his only son for me. Family, friends even lovers are easily disguised in those streets outside and without a sober mind it’s hard to truthfully see sometimes…UNTIL those cells doors close and you’re within arms reach of the belly of the beast, where time stands still, as you detox from life’s ills. Mentally and physically awaken renewed to a revealed truth, as blunt and hurtful as it may be, the only one I can rely on…the man I speak of is merciful and almighty, keeping satan in line, he has even given me a sense of freedom and peace of mind as well as an unbreakable faith while I am unjustly confined, temporarily, because they can’t hold us forever. When he is working miracles in the midst NEVER say never.

“My son you will be home hugged up with your kids” not just I, you, too, keep me in your prayers and vice versa, soon you will see. Through good times and bad times you can honestly and faithfully depend on GOD.

Peace and Love,

Maryland

‘DCJ: Same shit, different toilet’


What’s up IOA? Thanks for writing. I’m hanging in there. Can’t really complain, God let me wake up. But as far as DCJ goes, same shit, different toilet. They find a way to make our lives worse by the day. The pod that I’m in has had a problem with our kiosk for damn near a month and the jail has still failed to fix it. Continue reading

‘It’s cold and there’s nothing to do in here’

Hey,

It”s cold and there’s nothing to do in here…I don’t want the new visitation thing. My family comes from an hour and 30 minutes away. Crazy, rite?

You can put this poem in.

 

My friend, I stand in judgment now

And feel that you’re to blame somehow

On Earth I walked with you day to day

And never did you point the way Continue reading

“When I’m Gone”

Gotta know where I’ve been and what I’ve been through/

Gotta know what I’ve seen and what I’ve seen through/

Sacrifice, trying to make money stack/

And the times I called on the Lord but he ain’t answer back/

Prison bars, metal bunks, this stuff really got so deep I needed swimming trunks/

What am I facing, my mind is pacing/

My time is wasted sittin just patiently waiting/

I’m holding strong, everyday/

I’m losing weight, starving off these prison plates/

No visitation, no mail neither/

My heart is getting colder and suffers from ether/

But I play my role, for my families’ sake/

Cuz I ain’t really trying to hear the excuses they make/

Get on my knees and say a prayer/

Cuz God gone be the one that’s gone lead me to paper

–D-Blocc