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Photo by Ralf Skirr on Unsplash

Fallen Angels
Victims of a consensual sort
Manipulated by lies
They’ve become the streets consort.

Without greater knowledge
They develop close ties
With those just like them
Consolidated by crime.

Consequences of their actions
Can’t be seen beforehand
So with every evil act
They feel like they’ve become men.

Their reputations grow
And it bolsters their egos
So they continue down that path
Ignoring the upheaval.

And now fright and terror
Grow steady in the hood
Now these fallen angels
Are far past misunderstood.

All the violent actions
Led others to believe
That this major problem
Must swiftly be reprieved.

So the locals call the cops
And cops storm the streets
To gather up those troubled souls
And take them away for keeps.

Now these fallen angels
Who wanted to live in a hurry
Are stuck in cells of cinder block
So cold and hungry

Thinking evil thoughts
And devising wicked strategies
So once they get out they
Can wreak more calamity.

But some don’t get a second chance
And you should let that brood
Especially if you’re thinking
That these words describe you

A lot of individuals
Have lived this life of hate
Don’t get trapped
And suffer a similar fate.

It surely is a vicious cycle
Of one I can attest
For I’m a fallen angel
Whose wrapped up like the rest

This sad ballad
Is one I must sing
If I’m to reach a lil one
Who may have bigger dreams.

And if I reach one
It will not be enough
But at least I’ve inspired
One to grow up.

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.

Mente is a writer of autobiographical short stories and poetry and a visual artist who specializes in portraiture. He is incarcerated in California. Mente is his pen name.