Sacred memories painted black on
brokeness of hard times canvases.
Mirrored images of many men confined
who remind me of me in memory.
Souls tear stained with blood of
our ancestors past.
Injustices pain like rain falls forming
puddles around ankles like shackles.
Unwritten script fist clenched against
bad experiences within the penal system.
Too many talented dreamers behind
Prison Central is confinement of the mind
Black life in eyes still shinning but dimming
He went from living to merely existing.