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Shards of broken glass on a concrete floor
Photo by Paul Kapischka on Unsplash

Shards of glass filling my shoes,
tattoo on the bicep, born to lose.
Existing in solitude, cement cage,
government torment, fueling my rage.
Abandoned by family, shunned by friends,
Groundhog Day, it just never ends.
Legal slavery, working for a penny,
common sense, don’t have any,
Not about guilt, innocence or justice.
Praying to heaven, answers from hell,
owned by the system, the gavel fell.

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.

Tyrece Jefferson is a poet incarcerated in California.