My own prison
LIKE A DISEASE, A PLAGUE, NO ONE
WANTS TO CATCH, NO ONE WANT'S TO
KNOW, TOUCH, FEEL, OR EVEN LOVE.
WORTHLESS AND UNWANTED TO THE
WORLD. I AM NO LONGER A HUMAN
BEING TO SOCIETY. NO MEANS NECESSARY
FOR YOU TO EVER ACKNOWLEDGE MY
EXISTENCE. THESE CHAINS, THE CUFFS,
THOSE WALLS, THIS CONCRETE TOMB
IS MY REALITY. I AM THE WALKING
DEAD, TO FEEL LIKE I EXIST EVEN
FOR A DAY, I THIRST KNOWLEDGE,
WISDOM, STRENGTH. REFUSING TO BE
INSTITUTIONALIZED BY MY CIRCUMSTANCES,
THIS UNJUSTLY SYSTEM HAS PROVIDED
FOR ME. CAN I BREATH, MAY I FEEL
THE WARMTH OF THE SUN ALONG MY FACE
AND FINALLY FEEL ALIVE. WILL I
EVER BE LOVED FOR WHO I TRULY AM. by. . . WILLIE BAILEY, 2013
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