Hard

by | Dec 18, 2019 | Detention Center Writing Contests, Poetry

Hard
Andy M.
Heard/Alexandria Detention Center writing contest, August, 2019

Its hard to see the light when nothing but darkness surrounds me,
Its hard to feel her love at the visits when it’s a glass in between,
Its hard to feel at all when pain has made you indifferent
Its hard to call people friends when everyone keeps switching.
Its hard to go home when all these people keep snitching.
Its hard to talk to my kids when my baby mother keep tripping
Its harder to say its my fault cuz I keep going to jail and going missing,
Im a deadbeat dad and it’s hard to admit it,
Its hard to see my mom at the visits and tell her I should have listened,
Its hard to see my future knowing that I have lost my vision
Its hard to keep a grip when my thoughts keep slipping
Its hard to go to sleep when my mind keeps racing
Its hard to lay down at night cuz I keep pacing
Its hard, lifes hard, I kept saying
Its hard, hard, hard, hard!
Its hard not to stress out!
When it feels like my life has caved

Blackfoot Apostle

by | Dec 7, 2019 | Detention Center Writing Contests, Poetry

Eric Stewart, Arlington County Detention Center

 There’s many reasons to liberate on this behalf.

There’s a percentage within me that was explained by grandma.

From genetics to attributes, hazel eyes and good hair.

Within the adults it blossoms, still there.

It’s barely noticeable, as I get older I see with flair.

Something else that caught me by surprise was the time and place of grandma’s confession.

She was precise, authentic and peaceful when she opened a book of sequel.

Had an album with pictures and names of people.

Words can’t explain how the wisdom was a sudden shock as a nineteen year old lad.

I was so used to being ignored, but her eyes told me to hold fast (sit-down).

Always knew I was a leader and the intuition was obvious.

Growing up I was head-strong, fairly conscious.

Always wanted to change a situation to make things better for my dreams.

As the middle-child being courageous is what grandma saw in me.

Being called “Curious George” because of asking a lot of questions,

I had to find out myself and I did being aggressive.

Politics and friends was a “Head on” interest with passion.

Became agitated faster.

Wanted to lead my Generation but

Snap Back to reality.

Being too young I had to settle being unhappy.

Had broken laws, But education will also hail those to follow.

Grandma’s the Blackfoot Indian and I am her apostle.

Truly,

Dre