WORDS UNLOCKED ANTHOLOGY 2013 © RICHARD ROSS, WWW.JUVENILE-IN-JUSTICE.COM
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WORDS UNLOCKEDANTHOLOGY
2013
© RICHARD ROSS, WWW.JUVENILE-IN-JUSTICE.COM
Chapter 1: Winning Poems
1st Place
Hell’s Angel – 7
2nd Place
Dear You – 8
Untitled – 9
“Nothing’s Respite” From a Land That Never Was – 10
Black White I am Both – 12
The Meek and Humble Shall Inherit This Earth – 14
3rd Place
A Place Called Home – 15
As the Grass Grows – 16
Tell Me About Me – 18
Sun Up to Sun Down – 19
Split Personality - 20
Popular Vote
Lost - 22
CEEAS Choice
Overcome - 23
TABLE OF CONTENTS
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Chapter 2: Consortium Poems
Arkansas - 25 Delaware - 26 Florida - 30 Idaho - 36 Indiana - 43 Missouri - 45 New York - 46 Oklahoma - 51 Oregon - 52 Texas - 53 Utah - 59
Chapter 3: Additional State Poems
Alaska - 61 California - 62 Colorado - 66 Connecticut - 67 District of Columbia - 68 Illinois - 71 Kansas - 72 Kentucky - 74 Maryland - 75 Massachusetts - 77 New Jersey - 78 North Carolina - 80 Ohio - 82 Pennsylvania - 87 Tennessee - 90 Virginia - 91 Washington - 94 Wisconsin - 95
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© 2013 Center for Educational Excellence in Alternative Settings
2013 Edition
All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without prior permission of the publisher (except for educational purposes or by reviewers who may quote brief passages). Thank you for respecting the hard work of these poets.
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Dedication
Far too many young people are locked up around the country.
By sponsoring a nationwide poetry initiative for detained and incarcerated youth, and by publishing an anthology of their writing, we have made sure that their words are not.
This book is dedicated to all of the young people in juvenile facilities who had the courage to reflect on their lives and to share their feelings by participating in Words Unlocked.
Their poems offer a candid, revealing glimpse of what the authors have experienced and are experiencing—at home, in the streets, in detention centers. Through poetry they have shared their hopes and dreams, their fears and anger and regrets.
We hope that you, the readers, will respond to the poems with the same level of conviction that our students demonstrated in writing them. We hope you will join us as we work to provide incarcerated youth with access to educational programs that will help them develop the skills they need to be successful in school and to lead fulfilling, productive lives when they are released.
David Domenici
June 2013
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These poems represent more than talent, they represent a struggle that these young people are playing out on the page. Through these poems, and the process of writing, these students are, in part, working out what it means to be alive in the world and to have experienced the troubles they have experienced. More than that, this eBook means that someone cares about these students and through that dual process, the students working things out on the page, their supporters acknowledging their work and nurturing it, we find the seeds of a future vibrant with hope.
R. DWAYNE BETTS, POET AND AUTHOR OF A Question of Freedom: A Memoir of Learning, Survival, and Coming of Age in Prison, WAS
ONE OF THE LEAD JUDGES IN THE WORDS UNLOCKED POETRY
COMPETITION.
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Richard Ross granted us permission to use selected photos from his jarring collection Juvenile-in-Justice, documenting conditions inside youth detention centers around the country. Thank you, Richard. We look forward to working with you again in the future.
Our judges, Bryonn Bain, R. Dwayne Betts, John S. Blake, and Chelsea Clinton, took on the difficult task of selecting the winners of our national poetry contest. They also provided personal notes and comments to many of the participants. Thank you, judges. Your engagement increased public awareness and showed the student poets that their words matter.
Kevin Coval and Jamila Woods, artists working with Young Chicago Authors, recorded the audio versions of the poems in this eBook. Adam Peindl was the sound engineer, working out of donated recording space at WBEZ’s studio. Thank you to our friends in Chicago for giving a voice to our students and their poems.
Christy Sampson-Kelly and Kat Crawford disseminated the Words Unlocked curricular units, administered the contest and provided technical support to teachers within juvenile correctional facilities. Arthur Evenchik, a member of the CEEAS advisory board, oversaw the publication process. Thank you each for your tireless efforts, which helped shape this anthology into the authentic and truly powerful document that it is.
Hundreds of teachers, many working in trying conditions, made the Words Unlocked initiative come alive in classrooms across the country. Thank you for encouraging thousands of incarcerated teens to write and express themselves through Words Unlocked.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
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All of the poems in this anthology were submitted by students being held in secure youth facilities around the country. The poems were selected by a team of volunteer judges who narrowed over 1,000 poems down to the 75 in this anthology. The First Place and Second Place poems were selected by our final judges. The Popular poem was selected by an online vote and the CEEAS Choice poem was randomly chosen from all submitted poems. The remainder of the poems are presented by state. First, we have listed poems from a consortium of eleven state juvenile justice agencies with which CEEAS works most closely: Arkansas, Delaware, Florida, Idaho, Indiana, Missouri, New York, Oklahoma, Oregon, Texas, and Utah. Afterward, we have included poems from students held in other states from around the country.
ABOUT THE POEMS IN THIS ANTHOLOGY
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1
WINNING POEMS
© RICHARD ROSS, WWW.JUVENILE-IN-JUSTICE.COM
Hell’s Angel
Not all angels go to heaven.Sometimes angels go to hell.I know this, cuz I watched you slip.And loaded your pipe as you fell.
I didn’t realize at the time,How hard you’d hit your head.His radar tracked her damaged soul,And led her to his bed.
But she was young, and vulnerable.And he was thirty-six.Heart wrapped in crystal smoke ribbons,She laid a kiss upon the devil’s lips.
Come, embrace this invitation,To a wonderland of sin.
I told the devil, “No,”He held a gun to my head!Pumped that fire through her veins,And laughed when she cried,And all too soon, our dreamBecame a real hell-ride.
Escape did come,But in a blur.Escape for me,But not for her.
Sex is now her occupation,Love is just a game.The gears, they keep on turning,But they’re bound to grind away.
And this girl, that I helped ruin,Still hides the scars beneath her lingerie
Poet: Brianna Facility: Three Lakes High School, Albany, ORD
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FIRST PLACE
Click here to listen to this poem.
Dear You
Dear Xanax bars,Please take me to Mars,Where I don’t have to do a thing for KLONDIKE BARS!
Dear Spoon,Will you take me to the moon?Turn this filthy world into a cartoon?
Dear Dope,You fill me with hopeHave me wrapped around your fingerTied with a rope.
Dear Me,Is this who you really want to be?Locked into drugsWith no key?
Poet: Alina Facility: Champaign County Juvenile Detention Center, Urbana, IL
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SECOND PLACE
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Untitled
As I’m thinkin’ for a secondMy life is not perfectedMy life is kinda hecticBut I don’t know what wrecked it
It’s probably my mom doing drugs when I was youngerThe stuff that she had snorted in front of me and my brothersShe needed a needle when we had needed a motherAnd then she got the nerve to ask us why we don’t love her? I think it’s crazyHow she callin’ me her babyWhen latelyShe hasn’t been around to see me grow and changing
It kinda broke my heartWhen I look back at the startMan I turned the things to light when everything turned to dark
So now they call me Marc, hope they remember my nameCuz once I’m up in the gameIt’s never gonna be the sameSo I sit back and kinda thank my mom for what she didCuz I got the lyrics of an adult but I’m still just a kid
Poet: Marc Facility: Minard E. Hulse Juvenile Detention Center, Vernon Hills, IL
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SECOND PLACE
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“Nothing’s Respite” From a Land That Never Was
I wish my parents could see,The cause of all these changes in meIs the ignition point of my family tree.
I wish my sisters could know,The reason why my reaction is slowIs because I grew on my very own bough.
I wish my family could see,That all these changes weren’t meant for me,And just like the child I intended to be,I’m chained to the abyss, and I’m not sure,About whether or not I even want to be free.
Because I know no matter how much I try to flee,All these chains and shackles keep restraining me.For I’m not the silver seraph, I’m not the one with the key.
My wings rusted away so many years ago,Silver doesn’t fare well with my wet tears’ flow,But the winds of change decided with fate, soI’m so sorry I’m gone, I’m so sorry I’m dead.I tried to go places no one’s dared to tread.
I went to purgatory to fix myself, but I fellAll the way down to the last pit of hell.As I was sitting waist deep in ice-cold fire,My rage flowed into this bright red pyre,And tossed my soul away like a worn-out tire.
So now that I’m a demon with horns and all,I can hear that dark wolf resound its call.
An angel flew down and gave me some mercy,But all I did in return, was take its glowing soul,
My rage was burning inside, like an ember sea.
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SECOND PLACE
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My heart turned cold as such is the toll,For drinking innocence like emerald tea.But as it beat its lust, it threw some pity,And sent me a girl who wasn’t used to hell city.
I couldn’t take her warmth for my own love’s forlorn,Dear God save me, I’m a glitch, I wasn’t meant to be born.My very mind, my soul, even my body is torn.I can’t go back to the light, happiness is just too foreign.
Oh no, I’ve left them all on their own, all scrying*,Because they see what I am, all those who are crying,My leather wings let loose, in my moments of dying.
Heaven’s wrath returned, Hell’s fury incurred,I betrayed them both: the light and the dark.As I apologize to her, my words are all slurred,I’m taken by the beauty of her angelic wings.They’re beautiful and bright, and colorful like a bird.
She changed my un-life, made me a phantom,She took off my mask, in return for one,She hid me away, off into the opera,Now I write from another prison, for my precious Christine.
Poet: Conan Facility: Pinellas Juvenile Detention Center, Clearwater, FL
*The word scrying is the present participle of ‘scry,” which means to foretell the future using a crystal ball or other reflective object or surface.
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Black White I am Both
black white I am bothoppressed but freebound to be an outcastblack white I am both
look into the mirrorwas ’up my niggaI’m proud of youam I wrong for loving myselfblack white I am both
I speak two languagesboth English but both differentslang, hip-hop, shackles, bulletsthe streetsbusiness, college, caucasian, countryblack white I am both
I am to be judged by bothcultureswhy do I speak proper, whydo I live life in a beatlook into the mirror I betyou see colorbut black white I am both
ink on my skinfashion designers matterPolo, Lacoste, Levi, Trusbut I enjoy books, absorbingknowledge, poetry, mathblack white I am both
I cry as you do I bleedas you doI fight as you do Irun as you do
I’m used to the names
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SECOND PLACE
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it’s sad that they comefrom both sidesI’m not white enough notblack enoughbut black white I am both
Poet: Marcus Facility: Charles H. Hickey, Jr. School, Parkville, MD
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The Meek and Humble Shall Inherit This Earth
In night-filled alleysWhere rats scurryover broken glassYou find herThe queenStrung outnakedblanketed only by starsraped by lifescrubbed cleantill bones showher limp body liesmother earth comforts herwhispering sweet nothingsthat sound like somethingwhen you want them toneed them topolice drive upon her with midnight staresthey look at herthat prevalent objectjust sprawling thereknights in shadows match their stareyoung menrejected citizenship elsewherestand in her defensewith 45sknivesbottlesbricks& souls as shields.Tonight they lay their lives to restfor these streets are our kingdom59th street
Poet: Angel Facility: Nancy B. Jefferson Alternative H.S., Chicago, IL
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SECOND PLACE
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A Place Called Home
The fog descends upon usWrapping us in a quiltOf white felt,The warm summer rainWashes you away,Showing old wheat fieldsHunched over from the breeze,While the wind blows leaves That is beautiful to see,The crunch of gravelAs cars travel,Make a symphonyFor the city,Then night comesWith brilliant starsPiercing windowsFrom afar,Constellations from the Milky WayLeave when it’s time For a new day.
Poet: Nathan Facility: Chesterfield Juvenile Detention Home School, Chesterfield, VA
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THIRD PLACE
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As the Grass Grows
As the grass grows…a clock ticksThe earth spinsA little boy becomes a manGod holds the world in His handAs the grass grows…
Gunshots in the midst of a cityA little boy sucking at his mother’s breast grows to bust Simi’s Bang Bang!As the grass grows…
A young girl becomes a victim of rape and filled with hate so deepShe thinks chuck this purse grab a skirt and hit the streets For somethin’ to eatSellin’ her body for a meal or a couple of billsAs the grass grows…
A mother on welfare with several kids strung out on heroinApplies for a job that she’ll never getAs the grass grows…
A bomb explodes and new orphans feel an orphanage homeAs the grass grows…
Another baby abortedAs the grass grows…
A loving father loses his kids in a divorceA 90-year-old woman loses the love of her life in the middle of the nightA child starves in a country hungry for lifeIt can only be so long until that AIDS-infected teen spreads her disease out of a love she thought was deepBut he left her on her knees for another chick then another as the cycle repeats in the mirror over and over again“I’m not scared” as he puts the rope around his headStepping off the chair with a note that reads “I love Jimmy and if being gay is wrong in life then I want to be dead.”
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THIRD PLACE
Click here to listen to this poem.
As the grass grows…
You never see growing grass as a ticking time bomb.You never bend down and say this strand of grassWas an airplane crashOr this football field is a graveyardBut as time continues our planet accepts disaster,We fall deeper in sin than we beganand become victims of our own demise.
So be aware as we laugh and smile pretending life is chocolate and flowers.Under your eyes and beneath your feet the grass continues growing…And disaster continues to peak.As the grass grows…
Poet: Stephen Facility: Hope Partnership at MacLaren Youth Correctional Facility, Woodburn, OR
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Tell Me About Me
Tell me why I feel abandoned When I abandoned youTell me how I’m honest When I don’t know the truthTell me why I sit in darkness When I could be in the lightTell me how I’m such a fighter When I don’t know how to fightTell me why I write so much When I have nothing to sayTell me how I’m always fine When nothing is okayTell me why I want to walk When I have nowhere to goTell me how I am so high When I feel so very lowTell me why I run away When I have nothing to run fromTell me how I’m still alive When I make myself so numbYou can’t tell me can you No one knows me like I doTell me how that can be true When I don’t know as well as you
Poet: Angie Facility: Three Lakes High School, Albany, OR
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THIRD PLACE
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Sun Up to Sun Down
From sun up to sun down I think about how I’m doing 8 to 9.I sit in my cell and pray to God that I ignore negativity so I won’t catch time.I think about the situation I put my parents through and all the money they spent when they could have spent the money on the loans they signed.As day by day goes by I hear and see the same people eating nasty food and going to school all year round. I wish I could have changed my mind.I sit in my cell and think of that one girl, the one that hugged and kissed me all the time.I wish I could go back in time to realign my mind.I sit in my cell and think about how my life would be like if I haven’t committed a crime.So now you see, I’m doing 8 to 9.
Poet: Timmy Facility: St. Johns Juvenile Correctional Facility, St. Augustine, FL
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THIRD PLACE
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Split Personality
I’m the girl dazed and confusedI’m the girl wearing rotten shoesI’m the work who’s Always on the newsI’m the girl that smells like boozeI’m the girl Askin' for a Dollar or twoI’m the girl that’s lying to youI’m the girl skipping to her own tuneI’m the girl who loves to make a MessI’m the girl with Tracks on her neckI’m the girl who steals with no regretI’m the girl everyone says doesn’t careI’m the girl with bugs in her hairI’m the girl who sleeps under the bridgeI’m the girl using Dirty rigsI’m the girl who screws fellows for a fixI’m the girl deep down in the MixI’m the girl who needs to showerI’m the girl dopesick in the early hoursI’m the girl flying a sign on the cornerI’m the girl in line at the soup kitchenI’m the girl everyone thinks is a bitchI’m the girl domestically beatenI’m the girl without feelingsI’m the girl daddy gave up onI’m the girl whose life’s like a rerunI’m the girl stuck in this placeI’m the girl people say can’t changeI’m the girl waiting for the next trainI’m the girl, fingers stained with nicotineI’m the girl whose life feels like a dreamI’m the girl singing for spare changeI’m the girl who has no shoes on my feetBut I’m Also A girl who wants to….
Achieve her goalsGrow strong and move forwardEarn back some Respect and Quit the dope be Able to look myself in the eyesDo something and fail, but be able to say that I Tried
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THIRD PLACE
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Learn from my mistakesget educated, use my BrainQuit hurting my body and get healthy AgainOvercome the streets, And one day own a homebreak these chains off and make my life my ownfeel secure And safe in my skin once morewants to stop causing her loved ones harmwake up and not wish I was dead one daywork through and recover from the strife and painbelieve in myself, end the destructive cycle I’ve madeTreat myself with dignity and be the girlEveryone knows I was born to be.
Poet: AngelFacility: Three Lakes High School, Albany, OR
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Lost
How do I do it?Ask me twice moreThere ain’t nothing to it
Passin’ out on the floorI see spots in my eyesI’m still doing moreIma die in the sky
The drugs plug my eyesFrom the tears of my actionsAll the stuff I’ve doneProves a soul is what I’m lacking
I’ve been going hard all my lifeThere ain’t no going backThey say I have to changeAnd I’ll say I’m scared of that
What’s life for, what’s the point?I can’t even smile ’less I’m rolling up a jointMy girl says the same That my soul’s to blameWhat kind of person does the things I do?I can say I don’t have a clue
I’ve lost it all from money, family, and freedomMy words won’t even register to someBecause my life has been a kind of 1
So don’t worry about meI’m trying to see that my future’s full of miseryBut the scary thing is it ain’t a thing to meThat’s why I sold my soulSo these things don’t bother me
Poet: HunterFacility: Juniper Hills High School, Nampa, ID
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POPULAR VOTE
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Overcome
I believeThat a fallen angelCan be forgiven,That the pain in the worldCan be healed. Who’s to sayThat a broken heartCan’t be stitched?And that loveWon’t one day be more common than hate?
Be strong,And I believeOne dayThis worldMay overcome.
Tears may fallAlong this journey,But in the end,It’ll all be worth the while.
So once again:Overcome.
Poet: MariaFacility: Silver Lake Treatment Center, Middletown, DE
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CEEAS CHOICE
Click here to listen to this poem.
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CONSORTIUM POEMS
© RICHARD ROSS, WWW.JUVENILE-IN-JUSTICE.COM
My Life
I’ve done wrong I must payliving in my cellnot knowing if it’s night or dayI’ve lost everything that hasever meant N-E thing to meI’ve hit the bottom and did not want to live you seeI’ve lived a life of drugsand so much painthe only way I didn’t hurtwas by putting dopein my veinsthen one day I got caughtand put in jailcrying and screaming as if Iwas in hellI had nowhere to goand nowhere to turnSo then I picked up the Bibleand my heart began to burnis this what I’ve been missing all my lifecaught up in drugs and livingon a knifeI’ve awakened now there isso much to seeby reading the Word of GodI can better understand methank you Lord for calling onmeyou have opened my mind andset me free.
Poet: B. W.Facility: Arkansas Consolidated High School, Alexander, AR
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ARKANSAS
Change Up Part III
I’m done doing things wrong.I need to do what’s right.I’m waiting for that single day,When I see the one light.
When I see that one light,I’m going to enter that range.And maybe if I enterMy whole life is going to change.
I promise I’m not lying.I swear I’m telling the truth.And I hope when this happens,My whole life is going to be trouble proof.
Poet: ClaudeFacility: Cleveland White School, Wilmington, DE
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DELAWARE
Conversations with Myself
1.I have blood in my eyes Ice in my veinsHate in my heartNo love on my mind(A gun is not a math problem I don’t even think)When I was twelve years oldI wanted to kill myselfWas I depressed?There was stressI was never blessed 2.Love was never thereHate was always homeFear of GodNot thereBut so be it(Looking for that feeling)Never had faith But I had courage 3.Started at the end Because there was no beginning(Secrets are hidden within clouds of darkness)Always had nightmaresBut now I have dreamsStarted poor But ending rich
Poet: MarcoFacility: Ferris School for Boys, Wilmington, DE
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Someone to Love Me
All I want is someone to relate toSomeone to understand my painAll I want is someone to give me words of encouragement instead of saying I’m making excuses.Someone to accept me for who I was created to be.Someone to not leave me in the blind
All I want is someone to comfort me when times get hardBelieve in me Trust in meSomeone to not judge me
All I want is someone to not give up on me when I make mistakesSomeone to see the internal and not just externalSomeone to show me loyalty time and time again. Someone to be my friendSomeone to be there to the very end
All I want is someone to love me
Poet: KareemFacility: New Castle County Detention Center, Wilmington, DE
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What Does it Mean?
We live.We laugh.We love. We sing.
But I have only one questionWhat does it mean?
The lives we live are all different but the sameThey all start and end in the very same wayEverything happens for a reasonOr so it may seemBut I have only one question
What does it mean?
I have love for her and she loves me, But that can’t be all life has for meIs there moreOr is there less?This thing called lifeHave I lived it to the fullest?But as I go on thinkingMy question is about one thingThis thing called life
What does it mean?
Poet: JamalFacility: Stevenson House Detention Center, Milford, DE
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CRYING OUT
I cry when I’m in pain. My life is full with shame.No love in my heart.The rain may never stop –
My circle is small.I won’t answer to your call;You set me up again.
My blood becomes worn and thin –I cry, I cry.Life won’t ever be the same.
Poet: DimitriFacility: Avon Park Youth Academy, Avon Park, FL
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FLORIDA
In Me
In meWhere the love liesDeep insideThere is turmoil and unrestFor the one I desireOnly seems to hide
So I take down the wallsAnd peek out from behind the blindsThere are so many choicesI don’t know which one is mineUnsure and shyI wonder why I bother to even try
Though now I’ve seen outsideAnd feel it is no longer worth itTo stay behind the wall and hideSo I venture out to see what lifeHas in store this time.
Poet: CodyFacility: Cypress Creek Academy, Lecanto, FL
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Teardrops
They can’t seem to stopEven with the thought Again and again they fallRoaring against my walls Dropping down my cheeks Restless while I weep Overwhelming with the pain People watch in vain So I take a deep breath, now I’m even with the rest.
Poet: DestineeFacility: Cypress School at Okeechobee Girls Academy, Okeechobee, FL
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My Life
My life is full of bullets Something like a bulletproof vestNo place for rookiesJust pain-filled eyesOf a young soldierNo army No baseJust a one-man band Ready to play for anyone that stands against meAgainst all odds I’m still favored to winNo place like earth where you’re favored to sinMama seen where I was headedGraves, Dark Places, that’s full of shameFalling victim to the gameA citizen to the streets Poet: HinesFacility: Hastings Comprehensive Mental Health Treatment Facility, Hasting, FL
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The Fight Between Dreams and Reality
I have big dreams and simple dreamsBut the point is I have dreams I have dreams of being successful, famous, or just living long enough to make it out the hoodI have dreams of just being confident with who I amAnd the skin I’m inBut I have dreams, I have dreamsThe reality of my dreams is that they have been crushed like a car in a car crusherMy dreams have been submerged in a layer of hate and depressing thoughtsMy dreams are like a dark tunnel without a light at the endIn my home, dreams are the farthest things from your mind when you are trying to surviveThe reality of it is I have dreams, I have dreamsI battle my mind and reality every day because I have dreams, I have dreamsI cling to hope like a newborn baby does to its mother Because hope keeps me alive And hope gives me dreams I will not become another product of my environment Because I have dreams, I have dreamsSo I will strive like there is no tomorrow to make my dreams a reality I will be the best I can be like Martin Luther King becauseI have dreams, I have dreams.
Poet: IkeimFacility: Marion Juvenile Correctional Facility, Ocala, FL
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Never Judge a Book by Its Cover
You never opened my book and took the time to read me.You were always so quick to judge me.You saw the scars on my arms and the bruises under my eyes and assumed I was a troublemaker.Never once have you asked me because if you did I would have told you I am a victim of abuse.Never judge a book by its cover.
You never opened my book and took the time to read me.You were always so quick to judge me.You thought I had an attitude because when you looked into my eyes I always seemed to look angry.Never once have you asked me because if you did I would have told you it was a sad look of being lonely.Never judge a book by its cover.
You never opened my book and took the time to read me.You were always so quick to judge me.You saw me on the streets after 11 o’clock and assumed I was a hoodlum.Never once have you asked me because if you did I would have told you I have no place to stay.Never judge a book by its cover.
You never opened my book and took the time to read me.You were always so quick to judge me.You looked at my cover and made a summary of what you thought of me.You thought I was a bad person because of the scars on my arms, the bruises on my face, and the look in my eyes.I’m just a struggling soul trying to survive in this life.Never judge a book by its cover.
Poet: DemarFacility: St. Johns Juvenile Correctional Facility, St. Augustine, FL
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Beautiful Day
Cool breeze on a sunny day.Luscious green grass flowing over hills.I am nowhere to be found, I am MIA.These days give me the chills.
You can hear birds elegantly chirping,Water flowing through creeks,And roosters singingAs the morning sun peaks.
Clear blue skies that go on for miles.Tall thick forest of trees.These are the days that always make me smile,And leave me exhausted with tease.
Days like this are truly breathtaking.I get the urge to run and cheer. These days leave me shaking.Not with fear, but with a smile from ear to ear.
Poet: ChristianFacility: Juniper Hills High School, Lewiston, ID
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IDAHO
Barrio Life
You on your first mission you all hyped up.Getting ready to take a life so your homies show you love.Have you ever looked a rival in the eyes while he dies?Have you heard the endless screams or seen the tears that Neva dry.Your body full of hate so you act with aggression.Don’t you care about the family that lost their prized possession?Do you even take a chance to really look around?And see whose son or daughter you putting in the ground.You so caught up you home boys don’t love you.Start being a man get out the barrio fool.
Poet: GabrielFacility: Juniper Hills High School, Nampa, ID
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Meth
This meth in my system,Got me feeling strangeIt’s fucking with my memory,It’s fucking with my brainIt’s got me questioning everything,It’s got me going insaneI’m always feeling hate,I’m always feeling painI’m always feeling needles,I got myself to blameI want to find answers,I want to be labeled saneBut as long as the drug remains,I’ll always be the same
Poet: ZackFacility: Juniper Hills High School, Nampa, ID
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A Burning Memory
It’s midnight but the block is full of lifethere’s a wild party inside this house.I’m outside standing on the sidewalk
just relaxing in the darkness of this night.A car creeps up the block but I don’t think much of it.
Within a blink of an eye gunshots go offI take 2 in the chest.
Glass shatters, the party stops, the car speeds off and I go down.Now I’m lying on the concrete blood pooling up beside me
I’m feeling numb but still it hurts to breathe.My vision goes blurry
how did my life get to this?Tonight I’m not going home
to see my son asleep and give him a kiss goodnight.Tonight I’m slipping into death’s grip
as each second passes by.My vision’s going white
but I’m telling myself I got to fight to stay alivekeep my eyes open and steadily breathe.
Paramedics show updon’t remember much after that.But what is carved into my brain
is when I woke up laying in a hospital.I thanked god I was still alive
I didn’t think I’d survive.My son is looking up at me
a smile on his face and shine in his eyes.My heart melts within me
a smile creeps upon my face.I’m starting to get teary-eyed
I give my son a big hug then we chill together and watch cartoons.Flowers and balloons fill the room,
I want to always be there for my son, raise him right, and watch him grow So I kiss my old ways goodbye and let it go.
Poet: ArmondoFacility: Juniper Hills High School, Nampa, ID
41
Green Grass
Threat to societyMenace in homeSurrounded by inmatesFeel so aloneTrapped in a cell Past is left to dwellFuture seems bright Through the window to the rightAwkward plastic mattressResting on a comforting slab of concreteContradicting that there is no sleepToss and turn in the middle of the nightVivid Dream of a Crow’s flightFamily is nowhere to be foundFreedom is all aroundAwake to see bright lightsInhale prosthetic airFalse hopeSense of securityIn here
Poet: AlexanderFacility: Juniper Hills High School, Nampa, ID
42
When I Got Beat
When I got beat, I would sit there and cryNever knew when wondered whyNow that I’m olderI remember the painIt makes me just a little insaneI just said one thing todayI won’t be like him in any way
Poet: JerryFacility: Juniper Hills High School, Nampa, ID
43
Enough Left to Live
As I live in this life Diving down into fluorescent watersPicking up a million strifesAnd observing our adolescent peersWith years that are shortly lived,So when we ariseBack out of those clear watersWith a splash within us that thrives,And the extraordinary funThat we extract from our crimson sun,We will never forget the dayThat is slowly floating away,And now that our spirits are highWe have enough energy to fly,So sifting through my life Has left me to sit and dieBut since I have only begun I have just lost the tip of my thumb
Poet: TristynFacility: Juniper Hills High School, Saint Anthony, ID
44
Byronic Love
When I see the smile bestow before your face,I see your beauty and ultimate grace.It makes my heart fill with both love and hate,But only because I know that I made a formidable mistake.
When I look in your eyes, I feel our souls intertwineLike a fence and a spiderweb vine.When I feel your touch, I quiver inside . . . Because I know you will always be mine.
When I think of our love, I think of two dovesAs they disappear together into the sun above.The way your lips press gently against mineMakes me feel as if the world has stopped, as well as time.
Together we stay for better or worse.I will not leave your side, unless it’s in a hearse.And even then, not there in physical form,You will still have part of my soul to help you feel warm.
Poet: ChanceFacility: Providence Jr.-Sr. High School, Pendleton, IN
45
INDIANA
Thinking to Myself
As I sit here bowing my head,Thinking, I should be out there instead,I've been locked up for a couple of years,I'm getting tired of my dreadful tears,On my mind is my family, brother and mother,I also have forgot about my special lover,I’m trying to stay out of trouble,But people keep on making me stumble,I’m dedicating my mind by doing my time,Trying to medicate my pain,Thinking to myself, am I really going insane,Sitting here trying to stay cool,But people keep on bugging me and calling me a fool,Trying so hard just to be good,While they yell at me and ask me if I understood,I just need to use my brain and try to maintain,What I used to have wasn’t fame,So treat me differently, I have my own priorities,Now, we all have to show loyalty,Being unstable,People rapping and giving me labels,As the days and nights pass by,I begin to sigh,Waiting for that day to come near,Almost done dropping my tears,As that day comes here,I begin to cry,Hoping I would never come back to this place,Wrapping my family and school around me,Like a shoelace,Now, striding for my goalsAt my own pace.
Poet: KenFacility: Vantage Pointe Learning Center, Logansport, IN
46
Story of My Life
It seems my whole lifeI work to the topThen I slip,Mess up and drop
At first I failThen I get on trackOne mistakeMakes a huge crack
My life is a messI want to go homeI had things going goodBut now I’m all alone
How long will I stayIt’s way too coldI feel like a criminalThis lifestyle is getting old
Poet: LukasFacility: St. Charles County Juvenile Justice Center, St. Charles, MO
47
MISSOURI
Untitled
My mom saw this cominShe said she had a visionI probably wouldn’t be hereIf I took the time to listen
People make mistakesI made a bad decisionI’m bout to lose 3 years of lifeIn this prison
They threw me in a cageAnd locked the door behind me4 lower south 10 cellIs where you’ll find me
Conspiracy to murderMy friend caught a homiMy prints was on the gunNow the courts tryna fry me
They threw me in a boxAnd they won’t let me out25kMom can’t bail me out
All white drawersAll white walls74 centFor a 6 minute call
Brown uniformStrapped up Patakis*Always on point In case somebody try to attack me
* Patakis are NYC's government-issue, lace-free, jail sneakers. They are nicknamed after former NY governor George Pataki, who was in office when the DOC started handing them out consistently to inmates.
48
NEW YORK
Rock-hard bedMy body always hurtin Middle of the winter And my heater aint workin
Stuck it upSpent 4 days in intakeI don’t even stress thatThat’s the life of an inmate
Poet: TykeemFacility: East River Academy, East Elmhurst, NY
49
Dear Music
Life can turn your whole world upside down,Leaving you lostMind drifting away
Like a bottle at seaI have a message in meThat no one can read
Where I feel home, Things changed A lot of people come and goBut not me. NO!
Not me I stay It does not matter what I wearNaked or not, I stand hereMicrophone in front of meThe beat going as loud as ever can beHERE!
Here and only here!I feel safeThis rite here The pen to the paperIt’s fun to me like kids playing or eating ice cream
Like a bottle lost at seaI have a message in meDying to get out,So when I get home I put the beat on the microphoneIn front of me and scream and shout,Give it every bit of me untilI can no longer speak.I can’t … no longer…speak
50
For the message That was once in me Is now out!
Poet: AllanFacility: Passages Academy, New York City, NY
51
In My Neighborhood
In my neighborhood there are cars that jump to the beat of the music.I see children jumping 1,2 bouncing up and down a crackle to the ground up in the air, Kids clapping hands and smiling and having fun.I hear guns hollering all night.I would watch dope fiends on the corner pleading for money and drugs.When I was home my dog would giggle and cuddle with me.In my neighborhood the moon whispered, “Tonight is going to be the night.”Old people would shout, scream, and waddle all day long.The stars would catch a wish; if it’s good it may come true.In the middle of the night my bed would question me why I’m not sleeping.My grandmother barked goodnight.
Poet: DorisFacility: Taberg Residential Center for Girls, Taberg, NY
52
My Treasures
The tiring nights and the harsh tomorrows,And the love that assumes complete control.All the pleasures of this world will lead to sorrow.And rip apart the soul.
My heart has hidden its many treasures,And my lips have kept them sealed.All my thoughts, ideas, hopes and pleasures,That’s charms were shattered if revealed.
Your gaze makes me feel as if unblest,I hope to one day be free of this unrest.Those lonely nights can make you fear,The drawn-out days with skies unclear.
Your life is a flower,It can either wilt or bloom.Light can bestow upon it power,Or upon it darkness can loom.
Poet: CharlieFacility: Central Oklahoma Juvenile Center, Tecumseh, OK
53
OKLAHOMA
It Doesn’t Hurt
When people tell you, what you believe is wrong. That you are never going to succeed and make it in life. You start to go numb.
The first thing to go are your feelings, you are emotionless.
The second is the ability to keep your head up, you don’t want people to see the pain in your eyes.
The third is being able to speak, you feel like nobody will understand or listen to you.
The fourth and last one is being able to believe that you are human, you’re treated like an animal, a disease.
They say it doesn’t hurt, that it won’t cause you any pain. It won’t make you think of death. Make you think about cutting your wrists. It doesn’t hurt, that’s what they say.
Let’s hope death is the same way.
Poet: Jonathon Facility: MacLaren Youth Correctional Facility, Woodburn, OR
54
OREGON
9/11
Pride used to be in our stepsPride was in our minds and in our hearts.If we accept that we are just the samePut away the foolishness and put away all the shame.In this world there is a trace of happiness.If we let this sink us, what will everybody think of us?Our country once so proud, now we cry out loud for help.We look above and ask why all the innocent people have to die.We ask if freedom is just a lieIf we continue to fightThe sun will rise but the nights will fade away.
Poet: Sawyer
Facility: Corsicana Residential Treatment Center, Corsicana, TX
55
TEXAS
Thoughts of a Troubled Juvenile
Every morning I open my eyesI try to look past negativity, fights, arguments,Drama period but they just won’t stay on the prize.
In my case, freedom is the key,And free is what I should be,But because the gates are like a lock,I wish I could buy the key,But this time I just cannot.
MDT and making stages seem like forever and a CAT I means no state.The same question I ask myself,Will I ever leave remains the same. NEVER.
Going home is my ultimate wishWith a strong-minded, big-hearted, super-supportive mom For hugs and a kiss.
There is no such thing as a bad seed.Love and affection is what most of us need, but my hunger for being free,I will be able to soon feed.
Poet: D. WattsFacility: Evins Regional Juvenile Corrections, Edinburg, TX
56
Welding Poem
As the arc bursts from my machine,The pull of my trigger casts a ghastly beamA weld so strong you cannot break,I am proud to say that’s my plate.From the glow of my cherry that is so bright,Use your helmet or lose your sight.You may not understand the complication,But man, I’m glad I took this vocation.
Poet: R. MillerFacility: Gainesville State School, Gainesville, TX
57
Mad Mothers & Drunk Driving
I went to a club, Mom,But I didn’t drink at all.One of my friends was drinking too much, Mom,In a bathroom stall.I promise I tried to talk her out of it, Mom,But she just wouldn’t listen.I even told her she probably wouldn’t make it home, Mom,In that condition.Everybody’s starting to go crazy, Mom,It’s like a bad dream.I couldn’t take it anymore, Mom,So I started to scream.I asked my friend, Mom,If she could please take me home.She told me to hold on, Mom,And let her talk on the phone.I tried to change her mind, Mom,But she ignored me and drove herself.Now that’s she’s crashed, Mom,I’m all by myself.
Poet: OtisFacility: Giddings State School, Giddings, TX
58
Lost
Lost in the crowd,I feel the judgment in my bones,Hatred silently screamed,DreamsOf returning home,Days long,Nights hard and cold,The sound of your tears,Haunt me like hallow fears,I dream this is a dream then I wake,I’m still here.
Poet: HeathFacility: McLennan County State Juvenile Correctional Facility, Mart, TX
59
Beautiful Disaster
My tear ducts fill and drip, my pupils swell,My heart aches and I ease back into my shell.My fists throb and my lips bleed as I bite down hard,God only knows what will be revealed with my wild cardUnless I take the hues of my emotions and transcend them onto paper.I lay out the soft and rough feelings, the texture.Balance, proportion, measurements and symmetry are things you’re likely to find . . . not.Emotions are everywhere, as well as my art.Perfectly imperfect, it’s just the kind it should be,Many shades, mediums, methods used to express the “Tempest” inside of me.Whether it’s beautiful and clear or dark and deep or like a large frightening knife,My artwork never ceases, as I express my choices, thoughts, loves and pains in my life.I sketch, mold, create and blend,All while continuing to express art in my life until the very end.
Poet: TempestFacility: Ron Jackson State JCC, Brownwood, TX
60
Uintas
I am this place,it gives me meaning.Oh, how the mountains peak,the reservation wakes to the beautiful birds singing.This place is not yet destroyed by the works of the government.The beauty still stands from 300 years ago.This place completes me.It is all I have ever known.The Uintas weren’t born to me,I was born to them.This is my home,this is my life,this is who I am.
Poet: MattFacility: Granite Youth Educational Support School Program, Salt Lake City, UT
61
UTAH
3
ADDITIONAL STATES
© RICHARD ROSS, WWW.JUVENILE-IN-JUSTICE.COM
Barrow
Barrow may be the top of the world,Although we continue to climbSometimes in order to move forward, You have to hit rewind.
The butchering of a Bowhead whale brings Great smiles and fills freezers for the seasonWe truly believe the whales give themselves upBack then and to this day still,Respect mother nature by eating what you kill.
We are barrow whalersThe sea is our whole lifeWe can shine all togetherWith the next generation as our light.
Barrow may be the top of the world,Although we continue to climbSometimes in order to move forward,You have to hit rewind.
Poet: PriceFacility: District, Fairbanks, AK
63
ALASKA
TROUBLES
Locked up in a cage wasting all ma daysIn here for getting money all the wrong waysAuntie told me change ma life no need to MisbehaveMy dad say all these wrong doings gon’ leadTo an early graveI told him that I doubt it but it has been onMa mindIf death was a person would it arrive on timeOr would it be late?I’m trying ta change ma life so I pray to God That for it waitSome people can’t see when love it’s in theyFaceI was too stubborn to look and when I didIt flew awayNow for me the sun don’t shine the sky isAlways gray.
Poet: JamilFacility: Log Cabin Ranch School, La Honda, CA
64
CALIFORNIA
Dreams in the Mist
Life was simpler as a young childish foolLife only consisted of what was lame or what was coolLove was even simpler it was holding my girlfriend’s handNo worrying about being ignored like a simple grain of sandNeither did I worry that the girl I loved loved another man
Depression was just a word not much of a feelingAnd doing drugs wasn’t my way of healingI hadn’t begun to cope by smoking up a stormNeither had drinking away my life become my conscious norm
Smiles were so common they were plastered to my faceBut now it seems that was another time and placeOnce you open the doors life rushes in so quickWith fury it knocks you down and makes you feel so sick
Dreams become so distant a vague figure in the mistFlaws become so clear you go and add one to the listNo longer do you wonder what is wrong but what is rightThen you understand when they say life is black and white
Eyes are pried open to so much negativity, it happens way too fastWay too quickly life is gone and your present becomes the pastLiving is easy with eyes closed is what the Beatles sangThose words stuck as truth & forever in my ears they rang
Optimism is more a talent than it is a traitJust how it is harder to love than it is to hateIf only there was a handbook on living in the darkThen life’s lows wouldn’t be leaving such a mark
Tears of pain would be uncommon & tears of joy would be consistentPeople would open to real love & stop being so resistantPeace wouldn’t be just in books but instead a way of lifeNo longer would we suffer such pain and horrid strifeBut this is just a dream the mist had once consumedI guess I held on tight before life went on to resume
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I hope my dream is clear in your eyes like it was in mineBecause once you read this I would have forgotten every line
Poet: AngelFacility: Camp David Gonzales, Calabasa, CA
66
American Dream
What is loveWhen all I have ever known is hate?Should I pray or is it too late?Maybe some faithBut how? When everything is full of angerFull of rage.I’m still trying to trick my mindWho can I speak to, who can I trustWhen this pain is turning my heart to dust?Can I continue walking with my feet on ice?Can I continue walking with the hope of a brighter day?How can I understand this time when everything is sour?It’s been so long since my feet have walked on grassI wonder, would I even recognize a flower?
I’m not alone because all my friendsAre filling up the empty cells in every penIs this what my life is meant to be?Is this society’s solution for peace in the streets?The system penalizes the actionDid they forget the humanity?The clock tick tocks to my sentenceIn prison now since adolescence
This pain bottled up inside knocks on my chestSomebody get me a vest Because my mom’s tears hit me like bullets with no restThey say it’s the evil that I should be scared of in hereBut it’s me who I really fearWhere’s the American dream when it dropped from the vine?Did you follow it too, where it rotted and died?
Poet: DanielFacility: Hartman School Santa Cruz County Juvenile Hall, Santa Cruz, CA
67
Untitled
I am envisioning… a mellow musical Sophisticated elegance relevant to bring upon a complicated eloquence persuasive and florid Not to be contradicted, painting vivid pictures while orating seductive lectures Come venture with me…And I can demonstrate, or much rather articulate the marvels of this Lovely form of Art much known As Lyricism cause my finesse is intricate and convoluted…. Though then again I’m fairly lucid to those who’ve acquired Unobstructed Rationalities’ reality no longer fondles us… obscurity is our Formality, and when we grasp The Potency Of Versatility And the Ability To Influence,…The only rhythm suitable for such an influence is the uproar it elicits when it’s Illustrated. Innovative, creatively fabricated for the Brilliant facetious crowd of pilgrims I can relate with,… I’m commonly known to most as Rose The Unruly Rogue, it’s my mission to Rip My Heart Out And Make It Thump out a prose…I Try to exhibit The Wonders of Witty Verbiage, And having minds that are impervious I hope you learned from this.
Poet: DamarisFacility: Lookout Mountain Academy, Golden, CO
68
COLORADO
Untitled
Anger is a Feeling.A feeling you hold deep down inside.People cut their self and start bleeding.Then think it's a normal way to survive.
I think otherwise.
But some people ask me why.And I say make the right choices.Then one day you will be someone wise. Wise enough to not harm yourself.Wise enough to not cry and then ask for help.
This may sound like someone's misery,But deep down inside it was a thought.A thought that came out of me.
But who am I?
I am the one who has always spoke the truth.The one who people have never seen what I've been through,So take my advice as a treasure.And let it be known that one day.You might be the one to harm yourself as a pleasure.
Poet: ShaquilleFacility: Connecticut Juvenile Training School - Walter G. Cady School, Middletown, CT
69
CONNECTICUT
Lost in D.C.
Lost in D.C. Where can I go? Lost in D.C.Maybe you should know. My future is in front of me,But you’ll never know.I made mistakes, But I can’t let them go.
Poet: MoeshaFacility: FAIR Girls, Washington, DC
70
DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA
Moon
One time I was tired of being Young, so I wished myself into anOld man. But I was dying The children gathered around sayingDon’t dieLet’s go out and have a good dayLook the moon is forgiving us with another sunBut I was sweating and said it is timeThat log has hollowed itself out and waits for meMy old spirit already has itsShoes onThen I crawled into the logWith the moonJust beginning To forgive me.
Poet: ReshawnFacility: Maya Angelou Academy, Washington, DC
71
Life Goes By
Time is flyinAs my life goes byI look out my windowBut all I see is barbwire Another day locked upThinkin and missinYou even more Sittin in my cellAs da COKnocks on my doorIt’s time 2 come outI wipe daTears from my faceThinkin bout da long niteI just hadUp contemplatin all niteFightin not 2 go 2 sleepKeep picturing daNext life
Poet: EmilioFacility: Maya Angelou Academy, Washington, DC
72
I Hope
I hope in the future I have a better life.I hope the future forgets my past. I hope the past does not ruin my future.I hope one day I get out.I hope one day I am successful.I hope one day I’m someone in life.I hope today goes by fast.I hope I am not judged by my looks and my actions.I hope problems will fade away and not get bigger.I hope I will be reunited with my family one day.I hope this would all just go away.I hope that one day I will not have to think about nothing and just be happy.I hope that one day my kids will not make mistakes like I did.
Poet: UrielFacility: Kane JJC, St. Charles, IL
73
ILLINOIS
My Brother…
My brother was 26 years old; my brother was not old,My brother was my role model; he always gave me good advice that could save my lifeHe would tell me the things that were wrong and he would tell me the things that were right.He was one of the brothers that I could never fight.I and my brother were like two peas in a pod.He treated me like a god but I know there’s only one God.I and my brother were always together like a bird and its feathers.But on that hollow night I felt that something wasn’t right.So I stayed up most of that night waiting on that uninvited moment.Later that night my dad received a phone call.I knew something was wrong because I just didn’t feel right.My aunt was on the phone and I knew it had to be bad news.I watched my dad jump up and grab his shoes I asked him what was wrong.Oh my brother, my brother…My brother had been shot yes shot, by a hot fiery bullet as hot as the flaming pits of hellNow my life is incomplete like a missing piece of a puzzleNow every night I wish I was in the fiery pits of hellAll I can think about now is my brother.What my brother had got he did not deserveBut you know what people say, God works in mysterious waysEven though we had different mothers we still had the same love for one another. I and my brother needed each other like cars need gasWhen I found out that my brother died I couldn’t cryBut I wonder why, and that made me feel even worse.Now even when I watch the news and it’s about a shooting IThink of my brother, oh my brother my brother…Now my life is like a mission that seems impossibleEvery day I can feel my brother in my presence watching meMy life is like a word that has many meanings to itAnd you can never choose the right word,I try to change my selfish ways every day because they’re like a pair of shoes that don’t fit.
74
KANSAS
I always wanted to be like my brother but I could never get it right, my brother had accomplished many things in lifeMy life is a garbage disposal everything goes down the drainOh my brother, my brother…My brother will be missed it seems a little too soon but now it’s too lateI will always remember my brother and I pray to God that he R.I.Paradise
Poet: NathanFacility: Judge Riddel Boys Ranch, Goddard, KS
75
My Enemy
What I wouldn’t do to have youMy desire to acquire youIs inspired by intolerable timesYou’re the first person I think of when I wake upAnd the last person I think of when I go to sleepI would do anything to have you
I need you like I need to sleep or eatI’ll get no peace till we meetUntil I have you, I won’t be completeI can’t seem to function or think straightWithout knowing that I have successfully conqueredYour total existence
I’m inspired by twisted mindsTo initiate wicked crimesBut I appreciate the subtle signsI’ve sustained plenty of pain without any gainJust to maintain
My heart bleeds for youI’d sacrifice my freedom for youEven die for youWhat I wouldn’t do to have youMy Enemy
Poet: BrandonFacility: Louisville Metro Youth Detention Center, Louisville, KY
76
KENTUCKY
Baby Bookings
They got me in Baby Bookings*Eating all this nasty cookingTelling me what to doEven the size of my right shoeNow I don’t even want to listenTo their complaining So I hop in the showerThen they lock us in our cell for hoursThat’s my life in Baby Bookings
Poet: BrandonFacility: Baltimore City Juvenile Justice Center, Baltimore, MD
*Baby Bookings is the nickname for Baltimore City’s Juvenile Justice Center
77
MARYLAND
Our Earth
The world we live init’s falling apart,yet nobody seems to careabout its art.“Take care of it and it will take care of you”Is what we are supposed to do.
But the inhabitants it seeks to help,put it in as much dangeras an asteroid belt.
If only we would realizethat we’re putting this earth in such compromise,and maybe if we could come together,we would be able to share a healthy earthfor the rest of its plain forever.
Poet: IveyFacility: William Donald Schaefer House, Baltimore, MD
78
Dear Mom
I’m sorry for the pain I brought youAnd also the stressI can’t live without youOr I’ll be depressed
My father ain’t hereTo teach me how to be a manI was 15, selling drugsThinking that was my only plan
I knew it was wrong But I thought it was rightNow I’m in a cell thinking about my life.
Poet: DerricFacility: Metro Treatment Unit, Boston, MA
79
MASSACHUSETTS
Untitled
A couple of months in the landIs like being locked in a small boxWith not a thing in itNot even a window or a doorYou think it’s all a dreamTill you wake up and just see wallsAnd a light over top of youYou hear the door go beep and a buzzYou hear your last name being calledGet up at 5:30 in the A.M.Brush your teethYou talk about your life on the outside What you used to doNow you wanna do right Want to get out and live a teenager life It ain’t going to feel rightWhen you used to selling whiteSo get out go to school and change your lifeYou talk about the wrong side But deep down inside you wanna do right
Poet: Anthony
Facility: Camden County Youth Center, Blackwood, NJ
80
NEW JERSEY
Life I Chose
The Life I Chose was a mean life The Stuff I do, Don’t even think twice about it The Life I Chose, Does anyone care? Who Knows
I keep my head up through thick and thin.I go through a lot but at the end of the day I’m just trying to winSee this smile on my face It’s just a grin. The Life I chose is crazy, You can Like me or Hate Me I stand Tall with my Head High in the sky Shed No tears, I don’t cry.
The Life I chose,I wish it could be better I wish I never chose this life, Ever.I see Kids dying left and right This All happens in one night I shake My head constantly. Us Young kids Need to live a better lifeBefore we do something wrong, Just think twice.We Know right from wrong.
The Life I Chose Was Just wrong.Choose The Better LifeThat’s all.
Poet: Andrew Facility: Union County Juvenile Detention Center, Linden, NJ
81
Untitled
What happens when you don’t want to live and you don’t want to die?What happens when you only want one thing, and for it you will tell any lie?What happens when you can’t move on, can’t say bye?What do you do when something’s in arm’s reach but you will never be able to hold it?I have the strongest force known to man but I can’t control it.I have a secret, not sure how long I can withhold it.A brilliant plan but I’ll never be able to unfold it.What’s the point in being alive if you can’t live?Which would you choose?A coma and happy or awake and sad?I would take happiness any day.We all hate waking up anyway.What happens when you can’t have what you live for?Do you push the limit, then more?What happens when happiness stands beside you but will never be within?What happens when you’re so sure it’ll never be there, even till the end?My heart has been cracked, but maybe that’s because before it was frozen.For you my arms will always be open.For you I will always be hoping.For you my heart is always open, till the day of its closing.
Poet: MarkFacility: Eckerd Boomer, Boomer, NC
82
NORTH CAROLINA
Surviving
SurvivingDown and depressed, Emotional from stress,Trying your best but diving in debt,Debtors inject worry and indirect threats.You settle for less, Cashing meaningless checks,That money you worked hard for goes fast.You have a family you give your last.What would you do if the bank comes for you?I don’t know I have no clue.I am an honest worker I always tell the truth.“POOF!”Surviving is hard, trying is harder.Giving up is easy, but it’s not smarter.Some people are living an honest day’s pay, the ones that are not have to change their ways.Survive is to abide, withstand, prosper, or thrive. Survive is to be alive in the body and in the mind. Some people are alive but they just aren’t living,They have to clear their mind and know who they are inside.
Poet: J’uanFacility: Stonewall Jackson, Concord NC
83
To You, Who Live in a Perfect World
I assume you live in a perfect world, I assume you get paid to makePeople like youStep over people like me
In the streetsLike a diseaseLabeling us freaksAnd pulling sheetsOver their eyes
Because what will it takeFor you to realize I’m hurting and I’m sick.
…I assume you’ve never felt irrelevantAnd while you sitYou assume I feel deadLike my head isn’t fed
As if I don’t know that every last word that we heardAnd every last word that you said Is like leadGlowing red in the depths of my mindAnd my head’s never clearSince my chances were blind
I assume you’ve done everything rightI assume you measure success in currency…I assume you scrutinize my freedom of expression,Using lies as disguiseFor your mental protection
But don’t forget to mentionThat though I’m in need ofDivine interventionMy mind is not in questionI assume you live in black and white
84
OHIO
My life runs on love,And my mind runs on hopeAnd your thoughts are not worth thisKaleidoscope slope
And you’re speaking in riddlesOn your words I will chokeI assume you’re stuck living your life on a ropeBut you see, misery is your life in a bottle
You bottle it upDrink it upThen you swallow
Only a fool would live life byThe booksI assume that you’re living For money and looksI assume you live In a perfect world
Poet: CatiaFacility: CAS Academy, New Lebanon, OH
85
A Tribute to Katie: Our Spot
You used to find happinessEvery Wednesday at midnight,As we spoke in the treehouse,Alone in the moonlight.
From age eight to age ten,From midnight to one,Those were the onlyTimes I’ve ever had fun.
All we’d do was talkFor an hour each week,We’d talk about our lives,And how they’d seem so bleak.
You never went into detail,And I never asked,Why your life was so bad,Why you knew it wouldn’t last.
You’d beg me not to forget you,And I’d always ask why,You’d ignore the question,And just sit there and cry.
On a special Wednesday night,The day you turned ten,I tried to sneak out,But was caught by my Aunt Jen.
She sent me back to bed,Where I laid awake all night,Thinking and wonderingIf you were alright.
I got up the next morning,And headed to our spot,
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I climbed up and walked in,To see you hanging from a knot.
My jaw dropped in awe,And tears began to pour,Maybe you wouldn’t have done itIf I’d been there before.
After they moved your body,And buried you in a plot,I discovered why you hated life,And escaped to our spot.
You were abused at home,Since you were two,Now I wishYou’d have taken me with you.
Some Wednesdays since then,I’ve visited our spot,To pay my respects,And tell you I haven’t forgot.
Poet: Connick Facility: Indian River School, Massillon, OH
87
Untitled
I love you.
Get it together.
I want to love myself.
Don’t know how.
Poet: Sarah
Facility: Montgomery County Juvenile Court Schools, Dayton, OH
88
MOM, DAD
I know you will never think about me,But I will think of you.I know we never met,Well not since three hours old.You left me in the hospital So young and so alone.When I said my first sentence, It was not, I love you mom or dad.It was probably something like,Where are my mom and dad?I move around from place to placeBecause I had no home.Nobody to say good night, Nobody to say good morning,Nobody to say good luck, for my first day in school.I wished you were there, both of you, mom and dadNot mom or just dad but both of you, There for every fear,There for every tear.And now I’m seventeen still without a mom and dad.My only wish is for you both to think of me,One day,For half a second,Of how you left me, and never cared.
Poet: MattFacility: Montgomery County Youth Center, Norristown, PA
89
PENNSYLVANIA
Today We Move ForwardAmerica, what happened to your faceWhere are those rosy cheeks That perfect smile?Your bright white teeth,Glaring at me, mocking my existenceLooking at you, I’m still ill.Everything you strived forIs lostThat diversityThose family valuesJust say noSpend some quality time with the “rents”Go to collegeKeep up those A’sTalk it out, don’t be afraid to be yourselfWhere have all your values goneThe picture-perfect world that you tried to createIs crumbling under my feetThe bubble protecting your sheltered mind is poppingI see through you, and so does everybody elseNothing has changedWe are told to speak outBecome an individualBut your perfect mold has not melted yetIt still attacks meStill…I have to go to collegeWhere’s my opportunity?That’s right, I have none left.I’m living an average lifeI have everything at the tips of my fingersAnd want to just throw it all awayAnd all I can complain about is what I don’t have doneI don’t have real problemsLike starvation, like sickness, like poverty,I must dwell on the vexing details of my life to pass timeWhere’s my prescription to ease the painAll this corruption is a part of life.
90
It makes senseIf it didn’t happen, life wouldn’t be the sameThis chaos comforts meAll these problems make up our societyWhere would we be without them?No where, that’s where We all know this, so we don’t solve our problemsBut they have a limiting factor Soon they will encompass the spectrumWe’ll get there anyway If solved, if left aloneWe move forward…
Poet: AndrewFacility: The Bridge, Philadelphia, PA
91
Daddy
Daddy, you taught me to stand strongAnd never be ashamed when I’m wrongWhile you stay up for days at a time, I linger around you just trying to shineWhile I hold tears in my eyesYou just look and pass me byI try not to crySo for now I’ll just sigh and wonder whyI ask myself why you love meth more than meI want your love, Daddy, why can’t you seeYou’ve hurt me so much in the pastDaddy, why didn’t your love last?With meth by your side,I guess that’s all you needDaddy, it’s time for me to let you go and be my own seed
Poet: Haley
Facility: G4S Academy for Young Women, Nashville, TN
92
TENNESSEE
In the Mirror
In the mirrora broken past
In one side he criesin one side he laughs
Pain is herea home for fear
No place for hopeno place for cheers
In the mirror the devil calls
In the mirrorone side is last
A soul is deprivedand taken for granted
A war of fatefrom not this planet
Confusion occursin a constant struggle
The price to pay is more than double
The mirror’s lifeis late at night
Cutting throughwith roaring knivesHis eyes gazeFor some answer
93
VIRGINIA
A heartbeat awayfrom under pressure
In the mirrorIs not his own
In the mirrorhe awaits his casket
The end of timesan open basket
Don’t look tothe mirror if you areafraid
For in the mirrorholds a flame
A flame of couragehis sin is pride
In whathe believeshis name shall die.
Poet: AndrewLord Botetourt High School, Daleville, VA
94
WHEN DARKNESS SEE THE LIGHT
Only the Lord knows my thug life has brought many tears caught up in theStreets trying to make ends meet hoping and praying darkness see the lightMany days just waiting to die neglected in my pain that made me ask why Nothing left to do so I just cry wondering will darkness see the light Young and wild yet letting my ego scream blind by lonely nights caught upIn many fights still praying that darkness see the light my mind being abusedAnd my heart feeling used fingers pointed being accused yet still hoping thatDarkness see the light the ones you love fade away the pain in my heart want To stay soon the pain starts to decay full of love so still I pray that darknessSee the light so easy to quit from suffering I’m sick watching time tick falling to My knees when that hour hits with nothing but hope that darkness see the light only He knows the time on the streets with no food to eat hoping why I’m still weak that Darkness see the light blind not by sight hoping before he take my life that darkness see the light
Poet: AntoineFacility: PWCS - ADC Manassas, VA
95
Bridge
Souls cast awayLike empty bottles,Vacant of spirits withinThey don’t fall,They weeble,And wobble
Broken tentsNearest to kin,Begging for lifeSuffering pain,I’m not alright,Can I start again?
Ropes of repetition,Bind us in light,Tied together,We strive through the night
This is our refuge,This is our home,This is destruction,We’re not alone.
Poet: Emily Facility: Denney Juvenile Justice Center, Everett, Washington
96
WASHINGTON
My Fear
Fear is what makes me cry,keeps me up at night.Fear haunts me,will I be alone?The silence closes in,will I be loved?
don’t raise your handunclose that fistdon’t throw that lampplease just miss—don’t hit me with that beltfor it will leave many welts.Don’t call me names,it causes me pain.Don’t kick me out,I need your help.
I fear love.I fear people.Silence is like darkness,an endless void with no end.I lost the ones I loved,I’m locked behind a fence.I’ve grown to hateeveryone, everyplace, everything.
People torment me,ridicule me,ostracize me.They don’t know me, they don’t know my past.They judge me.I cry because I’m afraid,afraid of the world. Do you think that’s fair?I’m alone in this world.
97
WISCONSIN
No one to turn to,to confide in,to laugh with,be friends with.
People can be haters,people can be fighters.People can even be lovers.I am a fighter.I am a lover.I fear for others.I fear for every living thing.I fear I’ve screwed my life upso bad it can’t be fixed.Now tell me,what are you afraid of?
Poet: RhondaFacility: Copper Lake/Lincoln Hills High School, Irma, WI
98
About Words Unlocked
In the spirit of National Poetry Month (April), and in an effort to encourage literary exploration by young people held in juvenile facilities, the Center for Educational Excellence in Alternative Settings (CEEAS) sponsored Words Unlocked, a month-long poetry initiative that included practitioner-ready curricular materials, a nationwide competition, and publishing venues, including this ebook, for student work.
All materials for the initiative were available at our wiki site, Words Unlocked. The wiki had a robust set of tools available for public use: daily lesson plans and teacher-ready classroom materials, rubrics and assessments, teacher tips, and more. It included both a seven-day and a month-long poetry curriculum. Handouts and classroom materials are available in SMARTBoard, ActivBoard, MS Word, and PDF formats.
Thousands of students from more than 50 locked facilities from around the country participated in Words Unlocked. The initiative culminated in a nationwide poetry contest. Over 1,000 incarcerated students submitted poems
About CEEAS
CEEAS is a 501(c)3 nonprofit organization based in Washington, DC., with offices in Austin, Texas and Los Angeles, California.
At CEEAS, our mission is to help alternative schools in both community settings and locked facilities implement transformational, student-focused practices designed to significantly improve the life chances of the students they serve.
At CEEAS we envision a future when all students, including those who are incarcerated, will attend schools that value them and provide them with the tools they need to become free, contributing members of our democratic society.
For additional information about CEEAS, please visit our website.
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