Sweet wallow of pain,
Thinking... this weather is depressing,
What a shame,
Igniting flashbacks,
Clouds so dark here,
Misery,
Moved so far away,
Because he was blamed,
Chained... walking through the valley of death,
Inflamed and outraged,
Moving on before my time,
Missing the heat scorch my skin,
Two thousand plus men marching....
Marching, marching...
No where,
From cell to cell,
The closest closet to solitaire,
The closed casket in enclosed air,
Unbearable space in the box they are kept in,
Two thousand men,
Marching, marching...
In San Quentin,
Never been,
No not I,
One day soon will come my time,
The sun over there...
Imprisoned,
As we now walk through the valley of death,
The sun never represented paradise,
The dark clouds here are worse,
Bringing more rain of pain and heartache,
Moved here- continuing to walk through the shadow of death,
As punishment of my sins and others,
Guilt trip?  Yes,
Envision...
Only a few Black men in a small town,
Picked him,
For a crime he may not have may have committed,
His sister only 17 years old and everyone always depending on her,
Almost on the road to achieving her goals,
Family, the lawyers, friends become few,
She become paralaxed,
Ran out of town by the knowing eyes and pitiful smiles,
A key witness,
But wasn’t there,
Knew everything,
Including all family secrets,
And over time she’s emotionally, mentally paralyzed and traumatized...
Moved on she did-ALONE,
Walking through the shadows of death,
To a place so cold,
Chilled the bone,
He living in San Quentin,
On Death Row,
Two thousand men and he’s one of them,
Walking through the valley of death,
Last heard had cancer of the feet or the bones,
No one can get the story told,
Will she go back?
No place to call home,
Tried and failed,
Will she go back again?
No place to call home,
Haunted by the shadows of death,
Not until,
She’s SOMEBODY,
Not until the town’s folk will stop looking her in the eyes as a nobody,
Ostracized entire life,
No matter how hard she tried...
7 YEARS LATER,
Having the ability to hope and dream,
Envision, NO...
See me now,
Knowing, One day I will see the man on Death Row,
My Brother one last time,
Finally,
To be at peace with the soul,
As I continue to walk through the shadows of death,
I realize there are many ways to kill the soul,
One day to see the town’s people and say,
“Despite the disgrace that tortured my family,
I AM SOMEBODY,”
I am ME,
I am a WRITER,
I am a POET,
I am a SPEAKER,
I am a POLITICAL ACTIVIST,
I am a VOCALIST,
I am a BLACK CHICANA ADVOCATE,
I am a DANCER,
I am a BUSINESS OWNER,
I am a ENTREPRENEUR,
CAPITALIZING ON LIFE,
An ASPIRING LIFE COACH,
I am a SELF HEALER,
I am a MOTHER, an AUNT, A SISTER, and...
MY BROTHER’S KEEPER,
A SELF-PRONOUNCED WOMAN,
And to all those who know,
I have nothing to prove,
To you, you, and you,
I am a spiritual giver,
Soul and voice an entity,
Synchronized to the abyss of torture and pain,
Past experiences, Circumstances, and situations,
Harmonizing with an intellectual and revolutionary movement,
Evoking open capacity to still believe and bring the past to the present,
A well-defined, cultured, and grounded female,
Boundaries and limitations clear and precise,
Focused, Disciplined, and well-deserving,
Constantly finding ways to be creative and stay POSITIVE,
Constantly strategizing and,
MOVING, MOVING, MOVING... FORWARD,
Empowered by continued struggles as I walk through the shadows of death,
Hear me, Hear me now,
Homeward Bound, Ah! Yes, I am Homeward Bound,
For too long, too long neglecting my own needs to fulfill theirs and other,
I AM A FIGHTER AND SURVIVOR,
Nor do I let either term including INDEPENDENT,
Handicap my identity or sensibility,
One day I will be relinquished from such responsibility,
My #1 duty is to LIVE, BREATHE,
No longer will I stop to LIVE, Stop to BREATHE,
What I am NOT is DEAD TO ME,
I am a PLANT OF FIRE, TOUCH AND YOU WILL GET BURNED,
CONTINUING TO WALK THROUGH THE  SHADOWS OF DEATH,
FOR IT IS NOT OVER,
IT WILL NEVER BE,
MY REALITY...
My children are my musical heartstrings,
An eclipse of my soul,
My own voice is my savior- yet, I am not ALONE,
And my soul can never be possessed to controlled,
My poetry are my prayers,
REREAD, REWRITTEN, PREPARED,
Before I lay my head...
ONE VOICE,
ONE SOUL,
ONE PERSON,
ONE WOMAN,
MOVING,
MOVING,
MOVING,
THINKING AND MOVING,
MOVING AND THINKING,
ONE DAY GOD WILL HEAR MY PRAYERS AND SET MY SOUL FREE,
IN MANY WAYS HE ALREADY HAS,
I ALREADY AM...
“FREE AT LAST, FREE AT LAST, THANK GOD ALMIGHTY, I AM FREE AT
LAST.”
“KEEP HOPE ALIVE...”