Juvenile Hall Poem (draft)

Teenage children sent to cells without a conscience idea of how justice failed.

We couldn't make it to graduation because we were locked up fighting cases.

We hadn't lived to be twenty-five and we were sentenced to twenty-five years in isolation.

I hadn't had pussy yet.

I hadn't had a job.

I hadn't driven a car.

I hadn't learned to write cursive.

I hadn't valued life.

A recursive pattern of ignorance and bad mistakes never taught me more than to be the same.

Violence was normalized before I knew the game.

I knew the dealer's names.

Close all correctional facilities today and return those children to their wanton days where they could learn a lesson like the rest of America through curse and blessings.

I realize now the way the battle goes.

There are two different codes, and every being involved the same.

I thought I was wrong,

but actually binaries are the problem.

Right and wrong are merely perspectives.

Money and control are the purpose for the prison complex.

A man's word and reputation used to mean something in this country.

But just wait and try to become somebody.

The effects are subliminal and never spoken.

Criminalize those young people who have not awoken,

Reputation broken to the point where economics are stolen.

If you’re good, they say you're bad.

If you're bad, they say you're a snitch or a cop.

No one listens to me because they are mesmerized by a god and all the fucking lies that they’ve been told.