By Jason P.G.
I’m going for a drive because I need some fresh air
And I feel I’m closing up but I can’t; I need to share.
Why am I so lonely, why’s the world so unfair?
If I cannot stand nobody, then I’ll sit, I need a chair.
Trusting people with my secrets, I’m exposed, yes, I feel bare,
So, I’m telling them I don’t, but deep inside I know I care.
Back in the day had baggy clothes, now I’m rocking what I wear,
Now I’m watching how all move, so I sit back and I stare.
But that’s just off the top, it’s time to go a little deeper;
Sis digs herself a grave, and everyday it’s getting steeper.
I’m tryna save her life, but the Dope is like the Reaper
I am her protector, and my sister is my keeper.
The momma that I got, she is my blessing and I’m so glad.
Everytime she cried it hit me hard, it made me too sad.
I feel like it is my fault she packed and left my dad,
Now I take my anger out on everybody, I’m just way too mad.
When they cut her hours, check was short, and that was really bad,
Couldn’t pay the gas, we boiled water on the stove pad.
The voices in my head, they tell me things like suicide,
But I won’t go out like that, I got too much pride.
I’m so ashamed of thoughts like that, my heads down when I stride,
I try to be invisible; I just try to hide.
All of my depression coming on me like a tide,
My heart fell out my chest, I think I feel it in my side!
They ask me how I’m doing; I say perfect, though I lied.
Growing up, a perfect life really sounded so majestic,
I witnessed all those fights, on the streets and some domestic.
Everyday there is more sins, even though I done confessed it,
I heard “life is just a stage” and that I’m the next contestant;
That “hate is a disease”, and for that nothing’s antiseptic.
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.