Due to the responses I have received today in reference to I Got a Story to Tell, I feel the need to share more poetry that I have written that deals with the spiritual aspect of me. There will be a few more coming today so enjoy them all, share them with friends and family and continue to send comments. Thanks and enjoy.
Prison Story (Hell in a Cell)
I remember the day I was incarcerated like it was yesterday
A sunny day in the beginning of spring, the sun brightly emitting its rays
I was given a life sentence, without the possibility of parole
Without the possibility of living in the world, without the possibility of having control
It was an injustice really, sentencing me to life without the benefit of a trial
No judge, no lawyer, no jury of my peers, I still don’t get it, I was just a little child
But I took my sentence like a man, I didn’t even take the stand, I didn’t even mumble a word
I just sat in my cell writing my feelings on paper, like “If I Had Wings, I’d fly away like a bird”.
I told the world that “I Have a Story to Tell”, but no one seemed to care
I spelled it all out in my “Suicide Notes”, but I’ve come to realize that my life isn’t fair
I showed you the path through “The Footsteps of a Hustler”, so you can’t say that I haven’t shared
I answered the question about “What was He Writing” but you say my life still can’t be spared?
Is that fair?
Fair or not, I still sit here in a destitute state wondering about my fate knowing that I have too many things on my plate
that are not allowing me to be great, but if I can just wait…
I might get the reprieve that I need to relieve the bad seeds and deeds that have been conceived through me
Can’t you see
That in order for me to be what it is that I need to be, I have to set myself free.
I have to flee, but not towards the sea where there is the off chance that I could possibly drown,
but I have to gravitate to safe land where there is the possibility that I can be found
And granted a pardon. Yes, this hardened criminal is asking for his sentence to be commuted.
It’s sort of like a computer that occasionally has to be re-booted.
Defragged and memory replaced
Upgraded to new software with the old taken out and not just misplaced
Yes, I am pleading my case
And while I am willing to accept my sentence, I don’t accept being in jail
I can’t accept being confined to a cell and I won’t accept living in hell
So I plead now for my bail
No more stale meals of rotten dreams with the occasional commissary of fresh images
Because through my time I have been able to blend in with other inmates that have been dealing with their sentences
With NO blemishes
But I have a record. Fighting, talking back, and refusing to answer my number when it was called
So as I continue to fall, I ball to myself thinking “Why I am the one taking the blame, shouldn’t it be us all”?
THE GALL!
AND THE NERVE!
I still don’t think that I deserve.
Time…
And it’s running out soon
And my flower has yet to bloom, has yet to break the ground right in front of my tomb
I am still here. I wasn’t sentenced to death. I was given a chance
A moment to make a difference and a second to take a stance
I have had the key this entire time; I just had to find the door
I just had to know that there was more than I had ever bargained for
So what is next in store?
