As fast as the poems pour in
He pours them right back out again
Spilling their contents all over the page
It's either madness or wisdom that controls this Sage

While some may spill out on the floor
It's carefully swept into piles later for
When this young poets heart starts to bleed
He's never quite sure what rhymes he will need

So as fast as the poems pour in
He takes what they say and pours them back out again
In the spilling of contents all over the page
This time knowing though it's madness that controls the pen of this Sage

The jail house poets life is a busy one
Creativity comes from everything
The sounds, the people, the surroundings, his life

His pens and paper for which he needs
Is gathered endlessly through hidden deals
They have to be hidden from the guards and search teams
Deals are illegal in jail and straight to "the box" you go
* the box a 8' x 10' ft concrete room, let out only 30 min twice weekly, you stay there for 1 month*

His days consist of deals for the ones who hear about him
In jail the call him AKA The Professor, AKA Dr Phil, AKA The Psychiatrist
He reads books, his favorite, the dictionary and the novels, the Executioner

He writes endlessly and treasures his writing with fear of losing them Strange to some, always asking, why all the writing bro, they then read
He now has another client, the lines build and the writings are produced

Writing 5 poems a day, everyday, some days more for is clientele.
He had no worries for his following was was large and was always paid

May we know them
Let us acknowledge the female legends
Who brought us freedom with diligence

May we raise them
Let us give birth to imperfect perfection
Whom we'll love under any condition

May we be them
Let us be the change in the lives of others
Whereas we'll be sisters,aunts and mothers

Let us make a difference
Because we are women

I will be the light that which God wants me to be,
The light which even under high intensity pressure still can be seen.
No matter how dark and twisted the dimensions they may seem,
I will be the light God wants me to be.
For every person alive and gone is certainly a part of the perspective within me,
I see how we are moulding ourselves without realising we are, we.
There is no light at the end of the tunnel,
I've come to realise that actually the light is me.
And I realise my aim in life is to die, not to achieve an easy life rather to stay truly illuminated with love until I die,
Through every cancer, every hardship, every struggle, every war, every test,
I want to be able to say to God at the end,
I was the light you needed me to be.
And God will say to me, Welcome home.
And I will say Thank You, I love you.
For you were the One who made the light which is we/me.