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When you put things in perspective, who’s really the villain?

Who’s really the realest? Whose ills are the illest?

The system is broken but does anyone take notice?

Our eyes stay wide open, take to the streets and we protest.

We grew from the mud so we bloom like a lotus;

y’all grow from greed so your harvest atrocious.

We open more doors than your government closes,

concrete outta roses, the minority revolts and opposes

when you suppress and make light of what’s truly important.

Who’s truly ignorant? Our oppression no longer stays dormant:

We were supposed to be equal but you made us opponents.

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.

Gilberto Lopez is a writer incarcerated in California. He started writing poetry at age 18, when he first went to prison.