Hello World! To every movement, organization, and coalition: can you hear our cry? Or are our tears so frozen their liquid is hard to identify? frozen within the sound of rhetoric “if one is in prison he or she must be the crime” / this is not just a rhyme this is a rhythm being repeated since the clock first gave time. An hour ago I saw a man give advice to a lost young man / Shorty Help just wanted someone to converse with until he started revealing his hand; finger pointing in directions where he could see his dreams unfold / palms began to sweat as the correction officer yelled recreation was now closed. The intense conversation brought ambitions that’s been dying for realization / only if the administration knew communication can save a nation; Mr.Chance remembered Shorty Help’s name & figured to use his time to heal / going in his room writing down alI avenues to assist Shorty’s dreams reveal. With every touch of love Mr.Chance sent word for Shorty Help to come back outside / hoping Help wasn’t blowing smoke & all that fire burnt equally inside; receiving the message Shorty began to feel is if he were someone’s son/ going to bed before the moon anticipating fatherly love will rise with the sun. Walking with pep as he heard peers remain shackled to their crotch / “did you see Mrs. Temptation’s booty who work in the hospital?” he disgustedly glanced at his watch; seconds behind his line Mr.Chance stepped with the pride of a proverb / knowing iron sharpens iron making sure his tongue was a razor getting ready for every word. As Shorty Help saw Mr.Chance approaching the yard his eyes lit up like a star / Mr.Chance knew this was a defining moment that can take Shorty very far; finally face to face they embraced as if their blood pumped the same vein / while the watch tower zoomed in speculating the two were talking in vain. After greeting Mr.Chance immediately handed Help the information he wrote / the tower began salivating thinking this transaction could get him three stripes on his coat; you two get on the ground the officer said to Chance & Help surprise / oblivious to what warranted this shakedown they both had fear in their eyes. after retrieving this valuable information the officer aggressively handcuffed them both / smiling at his co—worker because he knew this could stop potential growth; Mr. Chance was taken back to court & charged with dangerous communications / Shorty Help was sent back to his cell falling into his peers crotch verbalizations. With the original letter being trashed the officers got Mr.Chance convicted with the evidence of inciting a riot / when the letter really read I love you & now you’re away from the noise you must utilize the quiet; so if our cry remain silent please know it’s many who choose to be the solution / just place our tears inside your eyes & you will see we are human and not the pollution!
*This poem is the summary of an oppressive system that stops people from helping other people by placing security over true restoration; please know it’s many here who have taken the opportunity to heal not only themselves but also the environment in which they live. Not to stereotype everyone in this system, because there are many who care, but how can their care become caring enough when the system has been infected by political agendas? So please don’t let stigmas and categorizations paint us because we actually want to help.
Vernon Watts #867369
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