Britney Lyn Sep 7

Our minds are a prison but the difference between yours and mine is I built my bars. Others built yours.

Jord Sep 5

A damaged eye contact
Remains temporary, indefinitely.
Laughter just imposes,
My immediate space
Has become unsure,
A deep blue of a blur.

The eldest in a box makes
A handsome excuse.
A hand out of happiness
In the fall.

Lady K Milla Aug 19

Set forth the boundaries to your love
I will find the cracks in your walls and hammer my way through them
I will sneak through those jail fences
And tear my skin in determination
to make my way in
With blood lines running down my legs
With scars awaiting in my adventure
I shall break my way into your cell
And sneak you out
of your own imprisonment

Noah A Aug 17

Why do I have to suffer...!

In this

Why do I have to be punished...!

Sent away...

To a place
Beyond reality...

This is horrible...!

What a cruel world...!

But what I did...

Was unforgivable

And yet...

What if I made it up somehow

What if I showed this world...!

I am strong!

I am not bad!

I am...
Not unforgivable...

But I am unforgivable

It's done

I have no place in this cruel world...


I don't want to die...

I want to go back

Back to when...

I wasn't

One of my darkest poems...
Noah A Aug 17

There is a room as dark as night
The thought of it makes me shiver with fright
Its’ captives suffer without a doubt
For no one has ever gotten out
Not many know what happens in there
It's more than some people can bear
I know that it's as uncomfortable as a rock
And as hard to break out of as a lock
The people in there are criminals
Their life is quite miserable
Sometimes I feel bad for them
The way in which they are condemned
They moan and groan and weep for help
Sometimes I even hear them yelp
There is a room as dark as night
The thought of it, makes me shiver with fright

My best rhyming poem.  Enjoy!
Alexa Aug 13

My biological "father" is currently in jail. I cut him out of my life.

My mother raised me. I'm glad she's in my life.

My grandfather who I call my father raised me but died when I was 5. I'm angry he's not in my life.

What I'm saying here is that I lost my "father" to drugs and alcohol. But I lost my father due to cancer.

Tony Ortiz Jul 14

I don't know where to start.
Momma had me at 17, and it broke her heart.
Stuck her to the walls like a fly that got hit by a dart.
I was collicky and it ripped her mind apart.
She loved me and wanted what was best,
So Mommom swooped in to take me off her chest.
I stayed with her until I was almost grown,
The lessons I learned and the things I was shown,
Paved the foundations for me to build a life of my own.
Growing up was weird.
Mom liked to drink her beer,
And argue with my step-dad despite who was near.
As a result, I caught anxiety and lived in fear,
Being scared of my parents caused me to shed too many tears.
I had little friends to vent to,
Accept for one girl who meant a lot to me.
Met her at nine,
Which was when life was far from fine.
My aunt passed away, and I wanted to put my life on the line.
Trade my life for hers, and I'd be fine.
This was before my dad did time.
Dad went to jail.
I wrote him every two weeks without fail,
Told him about my dreams of setting sail,
And going off into the sunset.
Two years later he got out but I got upset.
He was different.
More hostile, and indifferent,
Aggressive and with a bad temperament.
Discipline came from a belt and shoe,
I lived with him for a year or two,
Only because I thought he'd eventually come through.
Gave up that dream, and moved back home,
Friends all missed me and didn't know where I'd gone.
Stayed to myself,
Struggled with demons and didn't know what I felt.
Stayed dormant until middle school,
Started observing who was who,
Watched and learned why people were "cool",
Figured out why the class clowns acted a fool,
And made it a personal rule,
No matter what happened,
I'd take everything with the bad with the good.
That lesson is when I ended my Childhood.

This is the next chapter in The Life of Tony Ortiz collection.
In this poem I go more into detail about my childhood.
Lillie Kay Jun 23

I'm sorry
Every I'm sorry is like a a piece torn from my soul
The vibrancy is dimmed just a little
Every I'm sorry I have to give you
Is giving a piece of me
I didn't want to give
Because I'm sorrys are like your gasoline
They keep you moving
You crave them
You accept them but want more
But you don't know what you're taking
You don't know that you're taking my freedom and locking me in
Because each one puts me in the wrong
Every I'm sorry is an admonition of guilt
For a crime I may not have committed
But it's easier to confess and take the hanging
Than be tortured

Stressing for some days.
Then I caught my case.
I been on the run trying to give myself some time to think.
Sitting in my room, all I did was drink and pray.
Call home twice a week and tell my people I'm ok.
They ask me if I'm stressing, I'll say hell no I'm straight.
But they can tell I'm different because it's written all in my face.
I been working out.
I been gaining weight.
Been having dreams and nightmares about my death and case.

Ain't nobody send me no mail.
Stressing with my back home girl.
Trying to see and conquer the world.
But it all is seeming like just like jail.
Writing down my plans, hoping I don't slip again.
Drop some money on my poems and books and trust me I'll bounce back again.

Things aren't looking good.
But still I keep the faith.
While I'm sitting up in California, trying to fight my case.
Running through this maze.
Just miss my mom and daughters face.
I come out every weekend out my cell just to party and to drank.
Back and forth with peoples words and court,
They talking bout some rank.
I ain't did that since with the homies I was raised.
Everyone across the country,
They seem so far away.
As I'm sitting up in California, trying to fight my case.

He set himself free out of the confines
he was in, after much misery and suffering.
To free his mind  out of jail's jagged logic
was, an exorcism of many kinds, for long.

But the rudest shock came when he found out
that the so called jail didn't have any lock at all!
Who then was the renegade, in the first place
that made him believe, he was a prisoner of life?

A pointer on " how to look" for all of us who deviate,
hallucinate and take it as  truth,without  any question!
How many still are locked up,in the dark confine of minds,
thinking there is no way out and the key is lost for ever.

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