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I sit alone in my four cornered room staring at pictures.
Reminiscing on all the parties, the pleasure that came along with the drugs and 
liquor.
The love in the air was unbearable, the streets accepted me as family.
Kept different guns, love 'em all but revolvers never jam on me!
Always been a small dude so of course I stayed in drama.
School was boring, I said "F%#% homework,"  now look at the karma.
Three years and a couple months has come and gone since the day of conviction.
My baby's mother, a few others, even some close friends are now missing!
Reading old mail, learning new nieces and nephews got me trippin.
Stressed out, putting my thoughts in rhymes and rapping to anyone who would 
listen.
All eyes on me, I'm feeling like a mirror image of Tupac Shakur.
Calm and collective, never scared, when I sweat the color blue seeps from my pours!
So sincere for what I stand for, infatuated with organized crime.
Against oppression, dark shadows in my vision remind me of mine.
If I ruled the world there would be no such thing as police and prison,
Snitching would cost you ya spine!
Yeah I dream big, but am I wrong?
I guess my thoughts are just like my incarceration, wasted time huh?

Demons control this atmosphere, and all the evil within.
Controlling emotions of anger and fear, living off each inmate's sin!
Arguments and fights are the norm, and rarely does a man walk away.
Malice builds into a raging storm, and murder is manifested in each inmates DNA!
The highlight of the day is a piece of mail, a letter of encouragement.
For back in my cell the pain metamorphases into the devils instruments!
Here comes mail call, but the officer does not call my name.
Such loneliness behind this wall, for exgirlfriends have played a heart ending game!
So called friends blowing away in the wind.
Hearts don't just break they tend to bend.
I try and keep my sanity, but at times I feel I'm losing my soul.
I miss my family, and the thought of my daughters keep me under control!
As loneliness sets in, I keep my head to the sky.
I will not succomb to sin, and spiritually die!
I continue to thrive, never mind all the rest.
For my family I will live, and overcome prisons test!
I long for a fresh start, and I can almost taste it.
For the wounds in my heart came from time wasted!!!

Note: My brother in this struggle wrote first half, I wrote the 2nd.
You may say "hey" to him at: Chris B. Taylor #0847703
P. O . Box 506,  Maury NC  28554
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