Like Clockwork
Red ribbed tank top and panties.
Drawing and writing’s to earn commissary.
Rugged colored jumpsuits delivered daily through the bars.
A few women foaming at the mouth from drug withdrawals.
Smells of jailed prostitutes.
Some for murder or Robbing for loot.
Three toilet seats lined up, One shower curtain hung by one Rod.
Boxed alone ,dropped by family and friends,No squad
Kites passed by the male inmates through the line
Like clockwork,Under my tray Every-time
A few fights, Kept my body tight.
One eye stayed on guard all night.
Didn’t get any sleep absolutely no rest.
Until the night I earned each inmates respect
No outside letters.
No Love or a sight of light that life ahead is gonna get any better.
Held on to my dignity.
Versatility Adaptability.
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