It was a lonely time. It was a sad time. I sat staring at the corner of a cell
thinking, dreaming, crying, shaking, and writing. All I could do was write, so I wrote. If you’re looking for good poems, they’re not
here. These are just my poems. I dreamed with them. I cried with them. I survived with them. These are not only my poems; they are my
tears, my blood, my rage, my pain, my feelings… and sometime my comfort, my
hope, my relief…