My concrete cocoon transforms me
From chaos to consciousness.
I come forth
From concrete and metal
A changed man.

My temple,
Where I achieve spiritual fulfillment.
Here, I offer my call of silent thoughts
To appeal for
Strength, discipline and guidance.

My shrine,
Where the walls become an alter,
Displaying photos of my ancestors
And the living faces of those I worship
And bestow praise upon.

My refuge of solitude,
That shields me from the inflated egos
And programmed torpedoes,
Armed prisoners and guards,
Who wish to do me harm.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Ojore McKinnon writes from death row in Califorinia, where he has resided since March of 1999. He has always maintained his innocence. He can be contacted at:
Crandell Ojore McKinnon
#P-32800
CSP – S.Q.
San Quentin, CA 94974