Just the other day I received a letter, addressed from a young brother I used to know, who now spends his day circling cages, it read dear friend I haven’t seen you in ages, I hope life’s been treating you better, you crossed my thoughts so I scribbled down on paper.
I remembered how you used commend my ambition yet you always said I was wasting it on the wrong mission, at this present hour I am hunted by the slow pace of time, I have it in abundance as I constantly keep my eyes focused on the clock’s face.
Captivated by power I had my mind solely persistent on wealth obtained by any means, regardless to the harsh words spoke by my mother, I felt it was my destiny to shift the devils roots and the chemist’s white powder, it was all good so long as I never touched either.
As if I had never used my reason before, I accepted within my self that I was to see out this long spell, I remember the inner turmoil as I was marched down the corridors of filed cells and shoved into the four walls that was to be my new home, my heart sank and a chill run through every bone.
Although I have come across many obstacles in my two and a half decades of life, the seclusion and the emptiness cuts through my fortitude like a knife, yet relative comfort I have come to find in shelves of books.
The pages that I once shunned have offered companionship and knowledge that I was oblivious too. They say a man benefits if and only when he uses his time wisely. I have come to perceive life as simple as connecting dots, the only difficulty is that the ink of life cannot be erased, but man’s deeds can surely be replaced.
The soreness of our community has also given me much relieve to a sad extent, I must confess, as many of my brothers share this confinement with me. I wonder the count of those out there when so many waste away in here.
How is it that we forsake reality only to be awaked from our internal slumber by sirens and handcuffs, a question that seemingly reverberates around many a thoughts, I dream of walking out of the gates and my heart floats.
These walls don’t make you reformed, but surely offers you time in which a destiny can be formed, the days are cold and the nights are colder, I swear as if a minute in here lasts forever.
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