I’m Young But I’m Old

I’m young, but old
I’ve seen more personality than slave ships
Just call me “Incognito”
My words are so pure they touch lost souls
I’m deep down in your bones, like marrow
I’m the lost voice that cried out for help through poetry
W.E.B. Dubois said that words are power
No more being “deprived,” I’m here!
“Despair,” I made it
So many trials and tribulations, I can’t let go
You call this “redemption”
No one sees my struggle for success
So I believe and try my best
I walk lightly, but…
I’m digging for knowledge like an archaeologist
Time is short, so life is fast
Life is hard, so death is easy
I’m young, but old
I’ve seen this world once before my last
I hope no one heard that
The lights are dim and the time is near
Some one…let these words open their ear
I’ve paid attention for years
Now it’s time for attention to pay me
My soul is old
But my heart is new
I’m looking for the lost youth
I’m young, but old

Tagged with , , ,

Leave a Comment





This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

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.