She wanted a new poem
To brighten the day
She wanted to disrobe her gloom
That her love had left
She follow his footprints
and composes a sonnet of bearing
On a night like a flower

It's hard when you don't know what to do.
Facing the crossroads, the old and the new,
and don't know which path to choose.

When your whole life has been a lie,
and you don't understand why.
After all, aren't we just living to die?

When you neglect the wise thoughts,
grasping hold of everything you brought.
Still lingering, is the temptation you fought.

Or when you realize that its been a full day,
and you're stagnant thinking of which way.
Right in front of you, the true answers lay.

But it's even harder when you know what to do,
and for some odd reason you don't believe its true.
Achieving nothing because you're too afraid to choose.

seconds tick by as angry faces look back in disgust
a smile passes over my lips as we all know nothing can be done
this is life in the corrections institution
while I leave at 5 o’clock each day to go home, we share these hours
quiet hostility
combined with the occasional splash of regret
this, however, is usually passed off as an illness
and they go back to their cells, or as I refer to them “their hotel rooms”
as an instructor, the anger is not directed at me
but instead pours out whenever the officers walk by
leaving me to wonder about the reality of after-hours treatment
I sit in a swivel chair watching light bulbs flash into existence
awareness coming into the life of a ‘lifer’
the realization that they too can be more than they imagined
better than they thought
different than the image the department of corrections would have the world believe
proud of themselves I sit humbled
watching the embracing of an experience
and the acceptance of something other than
what their parents, teachers,
and society
told them they were