Friday, July 12, 2019

Freedom of Choice by Marshall Byers

I'm locked away in my prison cell at this very moment, I could pop my door and just walk out, but I'm choosing not to, because coexisting with a village full of men tonight with bad attitudes, and dark sarcasm that think it's funny to talk about rape and murder, cuss and fuss about how they wouldn't be in here if it wasn't for ( fill in the blank) chicken shit excuse. My sink water is wide open, fan turned on high, relaxing music coming through my ear bud's to drown out card's being slapped, dominoes slammed down on metal tables, and mean human's yelling at their "loved ones" on the phone. "B****! you better have my money, your so worthless, you can't do anything right! just do what I say mother". Yeah, some "Men" talk to their moms like this.

I do my best to look past the poor behavior with my heart 24/7. How else would I be able to build tolerance, compassion, love and patience. I am reminded of my own trail I migrated from. I literally bite my tongue as i walk outside of my cell, because I'd love to shame these guy's into changing, but all that does it provoke violence. It's routine for me to walk fast from point A to point B as to avoid being covered in verbal vomit. Heavy sigh. I know they live with pain, regret, shame, loneliness and fear. When there ready, I've made myself available by appointment only! until to the hand.

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With Love,
Marshall Byers

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