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. The Prison Journalism Project has verified the writer’s identity and basic facts such as the names of institutions mentioned. The work is lightly edited but has not been otherwise fact-checked.