Freedom was always calling/A Poet's Prison Memoir

Throughout those years of Bars and Fences, several things kept me from falling

My Faith in God, My Mom, My Writing...and, that Freedom Was Always Calling

The nightmare started in 93, shipped off to do a second bid...

I knew my mom was hurting deeply from all of the pain her silence hid

DownState was another dagger, the lonely days, the nights, the "Draft"

In times of peace the seagulls shrieking,..and, I could have sworn at me they laughed

Then came Green Haven/the pain continued; those forty months in just a cell

Abundant vermin, to live determined....Where most Co's were scarred as well

College courses would keep me focused, mixing with others who sought degrees

To be well rounded my reading varied from Og Mandino to Sophocles

All was good, then times grew darker, by 95 my heatlh had waned

Some forsook me, and others wondered how my trust in God remained

On bended knees I prayed this daily..."Not my will be done, but Thine"

Then, I was showed one set of "Footprints"" which I knew could not be mine

Deliverance came, yes, things got better; I thought my sorrows were finally gone

Until, I left to live in Fishkill, which in truth was Matteawan

Intellectually I was their equal, they had no choice, but to grin and bear it

For, I knew their books, their words, their History...and, many things deemed esoteric

Bogus tickets, the Box, Harassment, they thought I'd fold from all the stress

Still, what would I be if I didn't suffer?....a spineless man who acquiesced

People have asked me how I survived it, a prison life sometimes apalling

I  inhaled deeply, and finally told them....that Freedom Was Always Callling