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Photo by Ismail Elazizi on Unsplash

I’m from where boys catch frogs on Saturday mornings
And women leave church on Sunday
Where bullets catch babies as they’re yawning.

I’m from a mixture of cultures in one community
From a place mobsters call home and gangsters roam
And everybody functions in unity.

I’m from a street where we don’t trust the police
Most of us around here are xenophobic
And a dead body is a sight to see.

I’m from where sign language and colors say a lot
Where children become warriors
And their favorite toys are Glocks.

I’m from where misunderstandings lead to funerals
Where the killer comes to see his finished work
A place where assault rifles are tools of the dutiful.
We respect the ones who kill, where I’m from
Peace talkers become street chalked
Where I’m from, we murder those who claim to heal.

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.

Carnell Wingfield Jr. is a writer and poet incarcerated in California. He is a sociology major at Feather River College and also graduated with distinction from Blackstone Career Institute's paralegal course.