I.G.

by | Sep 13, 2021 | Detention Center Writing Contests, fiction, Poetry

by Darren Barnes 

Poetry, Heard/Arlington County Detention Facility/OAR writing contest, August 2021

I.G., we all know it as instagram.

A place you can receive alot of unknown loving fans.

Let me be the first to tell you, that’s not who I am.

We have all these followers but I ask you, are we truly leaders?

Are we truly using our power wisely?

Or are we courageous enough to post things without a pointless meme.

Let’s master change and not do things just to be seen.

Or better yet in the words of “Method Man” for the C.R.E.A.M.

We run to social media like internet feins.[fiends]

We act like that’s our only option when we’re stuck in a state of bore.

Let’s level up and change this and see what god really has in store.

For me, I.G. isn’t short for instagram, it’s short for Instant gratification.

I’m assuming we indulge in this manifestation just for a little clarification,

so we can get away from that ball of solitude

or so we won’t feel as small as a molecule.

I.G. will give you that fakelove just to make sure your ambitions and morals don’t grow.

Now be that thread, that golden thread that runs through life of great leaders.

So stay committed, have high ethics and master change,

because remember I.G. is instant gratification and it will put you to shame.

Do me a favor, don’t look around for one of your followers to blame.

We act like we have everything to lose and nothing to gain.

Instant gratification

is a weak manifestation.

Let’s build a strong foundation

for the next generation.

Growth

by | Sep 13, 2021 | Detention Center Writing Contests, fiction, Poetry

by Justin Beckett 

Poetry, Heard/Arlington County Detention Facility/OAR writing contest, August 2021

In the beginning we are wild and free

Being young, having a life of fun.

As we grow we learn about life,

Developing our feelings and personalities on

the life we don’t understand.

We create[e] a prison around ourselves, with the

Attitudes and anger we create[e] in ourselves.

We believe our ways are true and real,

but still down deep, we don’t know what to feel.

We continue to live in our own built paths,

runnning and running, putting on our masks.

We want to believe, but just don’t know how,

that the ways of life are not what they seem.

Some have come to realize and made the change,

and some of us, still live in our own built cage.

Blaming the world and everyone else,

not taking responsibility for our own true self.

Living life of chaos, mistakes, and destruction,

Until one day we hit rock bottom and have to

deal with repercussion.

Doing the time, some come to see,

that living our way of life, we were not free.

The pain, and guilt, and the shame,

we come to realize, we ourselves are to blame.

We learn about ourselves and what we want,

But sometimes too scared to ask for help.

The demons we have are here to haunt,

But we will not, let them taunt.

Finally, we make a choice to change our way,

having to put the past at bay.

It’s not an easy road to pave,

But day by day, we can be saved.

We learn that life is what we make it,

To understand we cannot fake it.

We have to find our inner self, we have to

change, and ask for help

It will always be a daily battle, but if we fight,

we won’t have to walk in the yard like

heards of cattle.

Giving our life a new chance to live,

We can live in freedom, and learn to give.

Being the person we were meant to be,

living a life of peace, and being free.

Challenges of life are not easy to flow,

But sticking TOGETHER,

We can learn to GROW!!

Who Are The Thugs

by | Sep 13, 2021 | Detention Center Writing Contests, fiction, Poetry

by Demetrius Spencer-Coates 

Poetry, Heard/Arlington County Detention Facility/OAR writing contest, August 2021

They weren’t thugs when the stripped us from our land

and made us eat from there hand

They weren’t thugs when they took my father

and beat him right in front of his fam

They sprayed us for marching with Martin

Targeted Malcolm

Told us we couldn’t drink from there fountain

Burned our houses.

Hung our Ancestors.

Where was our justice?

Where was our justice when we were riding for freedom.

Where is our justice for all the black lies lost at the hands of police.

But they call us thugs.

Because we sag our pants

Got tatts on our face and hands

Sell drugs to feed our fam

Stand outside late night after street lights

Drive cars with tinted windows and get into street fights

Come from low income families were its hard to sleep at night,

Because of roaches, rats, killers, and street mice

So it ain’t our fault if we get discouraged

That ain’t a reason for them to want our race to perish

Because we was born to flourish.

Because you all took our ancestors and brought them here,

Instilled fear in there minds that would last for centuries and be passed through genes.

Do your research these thugs manipulated and brain washed us

Then called us thugs for what we could not control.

So tell me

Who are the real thugs?

Part 2 coming soon on the brainwashing techniques and the Government.

The End

Let my words free your mind.