🔵 By Qualen Bell. Photo by lauragrafie.
Locked in a box, looking for a better me,
The walls squeezing the life out of me,
My past haunting me, hoping GOD somehow delivers me,
From this mouth of madness,
The belly of this beast,
Where you’re only a number,
A slave forced to work for free.
Everyday I pray for peace and release,
Or some kind of relief,
Because it’s getting harder and harder to fall asleep.
No one to write,
No one to call out to,
Fighting hard to avoid being turned into an animal.
Innocence, is something only proven when you can pay for it,
When you’re poor, you’re locked away,
And to prove your innocence the state makes you wait for it.
I wish I had a means to fight back against my oppressors,
but I don’t.
I wish I had it in me to just give up,
but I won’t.
They say that someday we’ll all be free,
but until that time comes,
I’ll be in this box
looking for a better me…