Here's another sample of the work produced by people in the poetry workshop program for young adults ages 21-30.

Buried Alive

Leg irons, waistchains, locks, and handcuffs,
it's deja'vu far from home stranded in place where I gotta man up.

All because I didn't want to give my man up,
and this same man came to trial, his right hand up.

And "told the truth, the whole truth" and got me jammed up,
now I'm in this can stuck this is just my damn luck.

I sold drugs but got sentenced like I killed in cold blood,
mama cried, my wife right by her side,
I'm not there and my son is starting to inquire why.

And I'm comprising lies but yet he still replies with why,
and I can die inside it burns my heart like cyanide that,

I left them out to dry and took the sun right out of there sky,
I think about how I....

I used to be the flyest guy, reputation giant size,
now I'm just a number, at night I close my eyes and cry.

I'm surrounded by, killers and murderes, drug dealers, burglers,
perverts and rapist and men with girl faces.

It's like I took the red pill now they got me in the "matrix",
controlling my every move like they got me by the laces.

I gotta live by the "mans'" rules, eat the "mans'" bland food,
two men to a cell so we're packed in like canned food.

I'm a damn fool, can't do the things a man do,
what me and my wife did, now me and my hand do.

I used to have my own crib, now I live in a bathroom,
on a hard cot.

This is the home of the hardknocks,
gangsters, hustlers, sneakthieves, and cardsharks.

There's violence on the gallery, homosexuality,
and other technocalities like police brutality,

And that's just a piece of reality.

You have the "bloods" and the aqui's", "crips" and the "papi's",
"jamaicans", "caucasians" and some are "god body".

There's violence and animosity so miserys' the norm,
egotism, chauvinism, bigotry, and scorn.

Young men who're 17, men with kids they never seen,
and some are never comming home, this is place where they sever dreams.

Cuttings and stab wounds grudges held from last June,
friends turn enemies the penitentiary is bad news.

It's sad too, to see men live sedated, numb and medicated,
living in a haze not knowing where the days went.

But this is payment for earning money that was tainted,
so they buried me alive, but on the other side of the pavement.