They take my kindness for weakness,
My mean mug for a thug.
My silence for speechless,
Assuming I’m on drugs.
They consider my uniqueness strange,
While inflicting inhuman pain.
Years of blood, sweat and tears,
But still, I maintain.
They call my language slang,
My confidence conceited.
My mistakes defeated,
My anger parental mistreatment.
To voice my concern is discontentment,
When I stand up for myself, I’m defensive.
I’m defiant if I don’t cooperate,
I’m bombarded with modern day hate.
My character under constant attack,
They label me a maniac if I react or fight back.
Who am I?
A man, barefooted in black sand,
Trying hard to be the best man I can…

ABOUT THE AUTHOR. Jayvon Bass submitted this piece for our spring contest, and although he did not win, we were impressed with his work, and hope he submits more. Jayvon can be contacted at:
Jayvon Bass #1092697
Augusta Correctional Center
1821 Estaline Valley Road
Craigsville, Virginia 24430