Ink

by Paul Myers

 

My life resembles an ink pen

to a certain extent so here I begin.

Slowly running out of ink,

body’s getting older

my heart is getting weak.

Vision’s blurry

but not to worry

I still have it in me

My freedom’s pending

Today I’ll stay in bed,

others wake up singing.

One more day or one more year,

They can’t hold me down,

My soul is still here.

Just like that ink ‘til the last drop,

Don’t give up girl, promise your

Heart won’t pop.

Fuck it, give it all you got.

Kept promising someday all this would stop.

We said forever but forever ain’t done,

I’m still writing, you’re at home with my son.

Damn, my ink goes long;

I’m not dead yet, you’ve been listening

to too many songs.

You better check your

Ink

 

 

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The First Time I Came to Jail

 

by Paul Myers

 

The very first time I came to jail I was 11 years old and went to the detention home. I guess I felt lonely and regretful. I was in trauma that first time, but of course after that you don’t like coming to jail but you deal with it and get used to it.

My first time in county jail was very different. You see the real deal – people getting their heads split open and people kicking drugs; grown men crying on the phone to their loved ones saying, “I promise I’ll never do that again”. I tripped out when I saw that people would keep food in their boxes and save meals overnight. But after a while you get used to these things.

My first time going away for a while was an experience also. I was away for 19 months and by the time I got home I had learned to enjoy little things a lot more. But it seems that after 2-6 months of being free we all forget the lashes we took and start taking advantage of life again.

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Freedom

by Paul Myers

 

What is freedom?

Freedom isn’t free,

it’s a price we all have to pay,

whether it’s killing people in war

or working all day.

Waking up in the morning smelling fresh air,

or rolling over in bed

to smell the scent of your lady’s hair.

No shackled feet,

no powdered eggs.

Possibly taking your kids to the fair

for rides and turkey legs.

Family gatherings and

barbeques and beer,

smiles and tears.

No more

“can you pop my door creeps”.

 

Freedom.

 

To make my daughter happy

and watch her smile,

and if I have to leave she’ll know

I’ll be back after a while.

Camping, fishing, partying all night.

watching the sun come up,

finally kids awake watching them play and fight.

 

Freedom.

 

Free from drugs,

free from fear.

Free to watch my baby grow

one more year.

 

Freedom.

 

No more supervision,

no more checking in.

Staying out as late as you want,

having parties at the Holiday Inn.

 

What is freedom?