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Photo by M K on Unsplash.

In the middle of nowhere on a raggedy stage
speaking to nations of millions about the chains that enslave.

Preaching and teaching about the ties that bind
warning of lies, and entrapments, and perceptions that blind.
Looking into the faces of mothers whose children have been lost
while placing racism in a chokehold, and keeping my foot on its cause.

I was born on the sun’s rays in the daylight just beyond the stars
now I watch the deeds of this universe leave nations permanently
scarred.

So I dwell in a place that time doesn’t exist
where the mindset has not yet been corrupted, and
ulterior motives don’t lie in wait in the mist.
It’s a place without games where nothing is concealed
the planet I live on is named surreal.

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.

Khaȧliq Shakur is a trans writer incarcerated in Texas.