Imprisoned.
Stripped of all my worth possessions I hold dear,
With nothing to call my own…mine.
Left naked and bare to be branded
With a prison number and labeled like cattle,
Clothed with prisoner-made clothes,
Given a strict limit of linen
Lent to me and handed down from prisoner to prisoner.
Sometimes I wonder who last wore them,
These very clothes that cloth me now,
Fed just enough to live…today.
Not a calorie more as that´ll “spoil” me.
Told when to do what and how,
Never mind your rights
As you´re made to squat down naked and cough
Before a group of guards,
Degraded and dehumanized,
Humiliated and psychologically tortured,
Time and time again, relentlessly,
Till I´m no longer me but # F63367,
No longer my own entity but a condemned Southern Hispanic.
No longer ”free” but held captive in hell´s chambers,
No longer living, but a dead man amongst those still alive.
That is what imprisonment is,
That is what I´m struggling to survive.
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