A Message from the Heart

Why should an individual make the same mistakes as others? Is it because we are not using up our aptitude to face life and its problems? Behind all of this, we’re all imperfect as a people.

There are individuals in the prisons, some of whom are innocent, and the others guilty. However, many of the guilty ones want to make a positive change in spite of all the things they have done to humanity and society, but how can we repair all those pain, grief, and losses we had caused when we’re not getting the opportunity to do so? On the other hand, there are some individuals who think that we should not be forgiven. So if we have to suffer the consequences, then what about those individuals who are innocent and unfortunately get caught in the system?

This is Thought

This is thought.

If I could sing I would sing my troubles away, but the thing is, I can’t, so I write because I got to let people know where God has brought me from, whichever way I do it.

Why me? Everyday I ask God why me, then I remember these words: “should Christ carry the cross and the whole world go free” so I STOP wallowing in self pity/ questioning God.

Prison Teaches Me

Prison teaches me the depth of criminality and tries to keep me out of touch with reality.

Prison teaches me that it is not like home away from home
Where you get tender care instead of fear

Prison teaches me wickedness, bitterness, madness, badness, sadness, selfishness, idleness, laziness, craziness and all kinds of ness that placed me in a mess.

What is Love?

Love is an unknown mystical power that intoxicates, quavers, and fascinates an individual who encounters with it.

Love is a thunderstruck word, it carries a deep warm current that absorb and quake the human enthusiasm.

Love does not bring you blues, however it only makes you feel content with pleasure, gentleness and harmony.

Love edifies the character, stimulates the mind, will, emotion, heart, and soul; explores your fantasy, and appearance: body language, eyes, walk, talk, and dress code.

Human Cage

A caged bird cannot pick blossom from the tree nor catch worms from the soil.

I am a human being who is like a caged bird.

I am locked behind steel bars in a prison cell where I am forced against my will to live in subhuman bondage.

The only belongings I have in my possession in this five by ten prison cell are: a little pisspot, a small enamel mug full of chips, a bar of carbolic soap, a broken toothbrush, a teethless comb, a pinch of salt that I use as toothpaste, an old worn out pair of slippers, some torn magazines, and a stick of crayon that I use to draw and colour portraits of faces and various places that I see in my vision.