Freedom Was Always Calling - a Poet's Prison Memoir

Throughout the years of bars and fences, several things kept me from falling My Faith in God, My Mom, My Writing...and, that Freedom Was Always Calling The nightmare started in "93", shipped off to do a second bid I knew my mother was hurting deeply from all of the pain her silence hid Downstate was another dagger, the lonely days, the nights, the "Draft" In times of peace the seagulls shrieking...and, I could have sworn at me they laughed Then came Green Haven/the pain continued; those forty months in just a cell Abundant vermin, to live determined...where most Co's were scarred as well College courses would keep me focused, mixing with others who sought degrees To be well rounded my reading varied from Og Mandino to Sophocles All was good, then times grew darker, by "95" my health had waned Some forsook me while others wondered how my Trust in God remained On bended knees I prayed this daily..."Not my will be done, but thine" Then I was showed One set of "Footprints" which I knew could not be mine Deliverance came, yes things got better; I thought my sorrows were finally gone Until I left to live in Fishkill, which in truth was Matteawan Intellectually I was their equal, they had no choice, but to grin and bear it For, I knew their books, their words, their history...and many things deemed esoteric Bogus tickets, the box, harassment, they thought I'd fold from all the stress Still, what would I be if I didn't suffer?...a spineless man who acquiesced People have asked me how I survived it, a prison life sometimes appalling I inhaled deeply, and finally told them...That Freedom Was Always Calling Freedom Was Always Calling by Poetiq1der aka Don Simmons