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An outstretched hand holds a small globe of the world
Photo by Anne Nygård on Unsplash

In my world my loved ones are on a “disappeared” list
And hearts turn hard like brass-knuckled fists

In my world tears are shed hidden in silence
And a man is measured by a record of violence

In my world a prohibition is placed on acts of love
On telling a woman she’s beautiful
Most times even on a hug

In my world if a man forgets to never lose hope
He’s often found dead hanging from a rope

In my world the only oceans or rivers I see
Are the ones I read about or see on TV

In my world beautiful nature that can nurture & heal
Has all been replaced with a clear view to kill

In my world time is a double-edged blade
We pray for it to pass
As it slowly slips away

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.

Ezra Williams is a writer incarcerated in California.