Tryin’ To Open My Door
Tryin’ to open my door from in my cell
No visits, no commissary in livin in hell.
While the walls are closing in on me
On lock in 17 cell tryin’ to see the TV.
The life I’m livin’ is the life I chose
Growing up where I’m from you got to keep your mouth closed.
I was born in the murder cap
Growin’ up robbin’ selling drugs and shootin’ caps.
Always on da block tryin not to miss a cell
Fears come in getting money in hell.
So what would you do
Bust that gun or let him run down on you
Where I’m from its kill or be killed
rolling of that blend, yeah that E-pill
Tryin’ to go to school and do the right thing
But seems to me things just won’t change
2 Comments
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The poets featured here are currently incarcerated, and many of them are in federal prisons far from home. Your feedback is a valuable source of motivation and connection to the outside community. Post your comments, feedback, and encouragement in the space below the poem. Messages will be passed on directly to the author. Comments may not appear immediately on the site, as our team processes them to mail to the poets.
That’s great how you painted a picture of how life is over the jail great job you cant stop continue to write even when you don’t feel it you’ll get some of your best work out of doing so keep your head up.
This poem feels very real and I like how you explain how you are feeling about your time in jail. Just remember that your life in the past doesn’t have to carry over to your life in the future. You CAN change your life and I think it is great how you are going to school and doing the right thing. Keep up the great work, you got this!