While sitting in confinement, J.J. had many memories. Some are good like the story he wrote about in "From Black & White to Color". Others are....well....a bit more raw. Remember, he sat in a box and either enjoyed his mind, or fought with his mind. Below is a poem J.J. wrote while he sat in confinement for 13 days. This post reflects the 'other' thoughts he encountered during those 13 long days....
Should I hang my head and cry?
I mean...is there a reason?
Like I jumped ship, absconded, or committed treason.
Who's the judge that handed down my sentence?
Probably had a rough night, maybe a fight.
Woke to his breakfast cold.
Realizing he's getting old.
Where's the jury, hung me out to dry?
Had other things to do.
Didn't plan to take the stand.
Now civil duty calls....ain't life a fuckin' ball?
Show up on that day, you're only half awake.
You're not fit to drive, let alone judge a man's life.
Yet here you sit in your Burberry print.
Now you've stuck it to him, rid the streets of vermin.
You'll walk out, light a smoke.
And forget the decision that sent a man to prison.
Go about your life, chasing a dollar.
If crack kills, then greed soon follows.
You're to your chin in shit! Soon you'll choke on it.
As I sit atop this concrete jungle,
I can't help but chuckle.
A horse has blinders. What I have is reminders.
Of a life grown cold. Wine that soured.
Today a new light shines. I finally found mine.
Thanks for nothing and everything...
All at the same time.
Ingested failure, a numb-all savior.
Life without hope. A hard pill to shallow.
My genies in the bottle and freedom soon follows.
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