Connect me across distance with what I am missing,
Purpose driven, and direction given,
Enclosed is myself, and no one else,
However snail mail never fails the tales from jails,
Eyes never satisfy the heart,
Through my words I was felt which made her heart melt,
Hear with your heart where she is coming from,
Lift me up high into the clouds so that I can shout loud from On high,
Are you tearing me down beneath the ground from which I was found?
Disclaimer: The views in this article are those of the author. Prison Journalism Project has verified the writer’s identity and basic facts such as the names of institutions mentioned.