End of the Road

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By TG

3:30 in the morning
not a soul in sight.
The prisons like a ghost town
when the guards turn off the lights.

Teardrops only tattoos
there’s no crying for my sins.
I’m heading back to somewhere
I said I’ll never go again.
end of the road
end of the road

End of the road
like the end of life
you feel yourself
grow cold the
more days go by
and you say goodbye
to all you know
and so you part
end of the road.

You don’t feel like a man
when they tell you to strip down.
Open your mouth
bend over
squat, cough
and turn around.
Jumpsuit and a bedroll
and a number for your name
white, black, rich, or poor
you are treated all the same.
end of the road
end of the road

End of the road
like the end of life
you feel yourself
grow cold the
more days go by
and you say goodbye
to all you know
and so you part
end of the road.

You never really adjusted
and it shows deep in your eyes.
Doing things you’re ashamed of
just to make sure you survive.
And just like winter storms
the rain can turn to snow
and the lightning flashes
could save lives
for those at the end of the road.…

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Jail Bird

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By AB

A bird once flew over a prison and sat on the bars of a window sill
The prisoner fed the bird crackers and the bird ate to his fill
The prisoner put water in a top for the bird to wet his beak
The prisoner done a good deed before he went to sleep

The bird didn’t leave–
He became a jail bird that didn’t know he was free…

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Fire and Ice

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By AW

Never shall I die in prison as my dad
died in 1999
Fire and wind of the sky
Fire and ice of my soul
Stirring within my heart the
love of life needed to grasp heaven within
A tale of sorrow, abandonment, and enslavement
Survival of the fittest
The sole survivor, souls survive
Though I may die a thousand times
In a thousand different little ways
Never shall I die in prison as my dad
died in 1999

I fly,
fire and wind
I sing,
fire and ice
Never shall I die in anybody’s cage.

“I will not be counted among the broken men.”  - George Jackson

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Her Name Is Streets

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By AG

Why the old cry when the young die?
And when the young die
A newborn opens their eyes for the first time

Crime is programmed
To the mind of the young boy who is searching for love and shelter
Streets, she’s always the quickest helper

What you need money, drugs, violence?
Stop being silent
I love you, young boy

Streets whispers, “I’ve made people rich
I’ve made people poor
I’m that love you can’t ignore

Also I have 3 best friends named
Prison, Overdose, and Death
I’m going to be here for you when no one’s left

I’m Streets, the woman who softly caresses your chest
I grow no flowers, I’m concrete
A hard downfall for whoever falls on me
In case you don’t know my name is Streets.”…

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shayarisms4lovers June18 235 - Penitentiary’s Soul

Penitentiary’s Soul

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Penitentiary’s therapy
Thriller of the cage;
Or is it rage?
An emaciated man
covered in a crimson crown,
head unbowed.
Stall-fed verifier
Subsisting on other’s tears
Or is it fear?
Herculean beastly forearm.
Crisscrossed with scars;
Each slice a clash
With weakness.
IN the center of your pain.
IN the center of your fear.
Penance or punishment,
Heaven or hell
Monastery or grace?

You, alone decide.…

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