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Yellow, orange, pink and purple-tinted sky from sunrise
Photo by Ferdinand Stöhr on Unsplash

Things seem to fall apart when a breakthrough is coming.
I’m slowly walking towards it, I’m thinking about running.
Do blessings have expirations? I really need to know —
if I’m walking in my purpose, there’s seeds I need to sow.

When they’re fully grown I wanna reap the harvest,
’cause if it makes me better, I wanna try my hardest.
Whatever I do ain’t enough, every move has been tough.
I’m shooting for the fairway, but keep landing in the rough.
I’m three over par, and the flag is too far —
should I excuse the caddy and head to the bar?
Sip on a whole bottle of Remy, like that’s the remedy:
drowning in my sorrows and building up dependency.

Alcohol one of the temptations we trade for gratification,
numbing our senses from pain, we thirst for the sensation.
I’ve heard all the excuses. “At least I ain’t using meth.”
How’s it different than drinking shots if you shot yourself to death?
An overdose is an overdose. If it leaves you comatose
that’s deeply unconscious, exceeding a recommended dose.
I’ve seen needle scars, and empty pipes fall,
bloody exit wounds, and heard 911 calls,

each is a cry for help. So when comes the rescue
the edge of nonexistence is right where they left you,
and that’s a long way down. As you begin to plummet
you’ll need a stairway to heaven to make it to the summit.

Once you see the sunrise, and it shines upon the ridge,
a ribbon will part the sky and read “I wanna live.”
Inside inspiration is a personal invitation:
time is now for change, total transformation,
let the old self go, embrace the better version,
leave the shallow end and dive into submersion.
You’ll be covered head to toe, work your way in,
try living with a purpose, let the new life begin.

What happened in the beginning can’t dictate your ending.
If we not trying to grow, what message are we sending?
’Cause see on one hand, you might inspire another man
to seek more for himself, who’s determined to think, “I can.”

Guided by your influences, he’s focused on his goals.
All he learned is due to you, compassion changed his soul.
His core beliefs are reset and character on point;
as a man, “He’s on fire,” like a video game joint.
Now planting the bad seeds, that’s on the other hand
and Not Being Accountable, that’s an NBA Jam.
How would you feel to put him on the wrong path
when a little good advice would’ve stopped the aftermath?
Not on my conscience, not if it caused him death.

Respect for other people is having respect for yourself.
Am I my brutha’s keeper? The message can run deeper:
Where is the equality if your brutha is beneath ya?
When he down, drop a ladder; when he low, raise a banner.
In a room of rough pieces, it’s prime time to be a sander.
If you can change one person, then you can change two.
Inspiration can be infectious, and start spreading like it’s flu.
Achoo! I must have caught it. Achoo! You caught it too.
Achoo! can be a blessing, now let it rain on you.

Don’t miss your opportunity to plant the right seeds —
you might find your purpose by fulfilling others’ needs.
That’ll kill off all the weeds. We’ll be fruitful in this land
and also be better for it, cause we helped another man.

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.

Inervoyce is a writer incarcerated in Missouri. He writes under a pseudonym.