In the Land of Opportunity
By CM
In the land of opportunity
I’m at a stand still like scarecrows
I remember back in the day
When I had to share clothes
Too many nights with no lights
And the bed cold with no heat
So we had to sit near a stove
Damn…
I still remember them days
Moms had a lil’ job
But it was minimum wage
As a young’un I was street smart
But not as good at the grades
Why you think it’s called “the trap?”
‘Cause the hood is a MAZE!
I was pushin’ quarter pounds of dat pack
Try’na prosper in poverty
A part of me purposely perpin’
So please pardon me
Police be try’na bother me
People tend to push me
I wasn’t thinking logically
That’s when dem’ people took me
Now, I’m trapped in a cage
In the land of opportunity
And it’s kind of sad
‘Cause things are better in here
Than out where I used to be
No way out
My opportunities are bare
Hoping that when I’m free
The land will still be there
6 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.
Thank you so much for sharing. I hope that other kids can learn from your experiences. Wishing you all the best for now.. and for when you get out.
I really like the honesty of this. You write about the difficult realities on the street but also about your own role in messing up your life. I like the hip-hop rhythm and half-rhymes and found lines like “Too many nights with no lights” elegantly compact and a line like “A part of me purposely perpin’” with all those “p” sounds really explosive. The ending was sad and affecting. A couple suggestions: When you wrote “Why you think it’s call “the trap,” I wasn’t clear what the “it” was; maybe because I’m not familiar with the expression. Also, I liked the scarecrow image at the beginning but wondered if you could come back to it, maybe at the end.
What a powerful poem. And such beautiful lyricism. I hope you find many opportunities when you’re free. Know hope.
This poem is so real, powerful, and raw… absolutely amazing. You tell your own story in a way that both lets the reader know a lot about you and says something bigger about society – I hope you know how much of a gift you have, because a lot of writers spend years trying to make that sort of connection and never get it right. I know it’s something I struggle with, so I really admire how naturally you can do it.
The only advice I have is for certain parts in the middle of the poem, like when you say “Police be try’na bother me / People tend to push me / I wasn’t thinking logically / That’s when dem’ people took me”. This is still good writing that says a lot, but I didn’t feel quite as pulled in by it as I did by the rest of the poem – I think it’s because you didn’t use as many concrete images. Just like at the start of the poem, instead of just saying “Times were hard” you gave powerful images like “Too many nights with no lights / And the bed cold with no heat”, it would be great if you could find images to show us instead of just telling us about it- maybe the lights of a police car, what an officer’s voice sounded like when he/she was bothering you, or the feel of handcuffs against your wrists, or an example of when people tried to push you, or what it felt like in your head when you weren’t thinking logically, etc.
Please, please, please keep writing. If you keep reading and writing, keep practicing, and keep growing, you have the type of talent and strong voice that can change the world. It will take hard work to perfect your writing style, but you have things to say that people really need to hear. I’m excited to read more.
Ditto to all that joewanders wrote. I responded to this poem before, but I have to give a shout out to a reader who speaks my mind.
This poem really hit home. I know what it’s like to have nothing. We often didn’t have power either, our only heat from a wood stove, holes in our clothes and shoes, living off of instant mashed potatoes. I know that desperation, and I’ll never go back to that. And I know what a shock it is to finally live somewhere that is decent. I got kicked out at 16 over nothing (Literally nothing. I was a very well-behaved teenager) and after couch-surfing for a while, I was taken in by a transition home… and they lived better than I ever had. The scary part was that it felt like it could all be ripped away from you when you’re not looking, so you tend to sabotage your own life just so that there are no surprises. I know you said that the quality of life right now is better than what you had, but it can be so much better for you outside. Don’t let the possibilities intimidate you. Yeah, real life can be pretty damned awful, but it can also be really, really great. You just gotta be stubborn. Put your foot down and say “My life will be different. I will do better. I will be better.” And do it. You do not have to be a victim of your circumstances. Your opportunities are not bare… they are endless. And continue to write; you have a wonderful gift for expression.