Poem – Doing Time

Doing Time

 

I awoke one day,

            locked in a cage.

My mind consumed,

            with bitterness and rage.

 

I screamed…silently,

            so no one could here.

Sucking in heavy breaths,

            my eye loosed a tear,

 

then two, then ten,

            then a hundred, then more.

Then I wiped them away (because big boys don’t cry),

            and I began to explore…

 

All the conflicting emotions,

            exploding in my head.

Drowning in self pity,

            “Would I really be better off dead?”

 

I don’t belong here,

            It’s not my fault.

I am not like you, or you,

            or you at all.

 

I’m innocent…I am,

            at least “mostly” so.

But God how I wish

            I would have just said “No!”

 

If I could go back

            I promise you I would,

do what is right,

            do what is good…

 

Actually, do whatever I had to,

            not to be here.

Not to be alone,

            with what I fear.

 

Not you, not them…more like,

            the man in the mirror.

At least the man I might see,

            if things got clearer.

 

If I really am a man at all,

            that is.

If I can focus on my issues,

            not his.

 

If I can use this, this time, to understand,

            that I am guilty of this and so much more.

At least if it really is God,

            who is keeping the score.

 

If I can admit to myself,

            that I am so much like you, and you and you, it’s scary.

Even if your head is

            a little more hairy.

 

(just couldn’t find another rhyme for that line J)

 

But Things don’t have to rhyme,

in order to make sense.

Anyone can be in prison,

            You really don’t need a fence.

 

So I will end with a question,

            important, but not new.

Are you doing time,

            or is time doing you?

 

Joe

3/2/2009

 

For a Poetry Slam at Sheridan Federal Prison Camp

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Long Walk

I realize that most of you do not have as muchn time to read as I do right now…So, I thoguht I would wirte down some of the thoughts that I find most interesting and share them with you from time to time.

Here is the first book I read in prison, Long Walk to Freedom by Nelson Mandela. It was not a conscious choice, but it was a fortuitous one… full of wisdom, insight and much needed perspective.