Poetry by Christopher Monihan

I’m One of the Lucky Ones
By Christopher Monihan

“Welcome to prison,” I heard the guard say.
“Good luck to you, I hope you find your way,
Because I can’t help you,” he went on to say.

And so, I went into the unknown,
To serve a sentence of my own
A young man in a world that I know not,
Concerned about myself
But for others I did not

The heavy door banged shut behind me,
As I entered the cell block
Assaulted by intense heat
For the summer sun
Bakes the concrete

Neverending clamor reverberating in a steel and concrete canyon!
Dominoes slapping upon thick tables!
Industrial toilets whooshing!
Sometimes it can be a bit much

I’m here to tell you
That I’m one of the lucky ones
My sentence spans decades
And I’ve lost loved ones
There are days when I sometimes cry
But I am grateful
And here’s the reasons why

One day I found myself in the cellblock laundry room,
Where more than laundry sometimes happens.
Where I’ve seen fists find faces,
And where I’ve stumbled upon lovers
In secret embraces

But on this day it was just me
Came back in to start a dryer — I’d forgot
But something stopped me,
What I know not.

So I went toward the dryers in the near corner
Slumped in between, I found a man,
Gaps across his wrists like crimson mouths,
Rivers of red …

I’m here to tell you
That I’m one of the lucky ones
My sentence spans decades,
And I’ve lost loved ones
There are days when I sometimes cry,
But I am grateful
And here’s the reasons why

I once knew a man behind these walls.
Forty-five years he’d done
But that’s not all

He often told me he’d die in prison
That he’d never make parole
Because of an uncaring system
That had taken its toll

Then one day he was granted release!
And I saw … fear on his face
After forty-five years it meant
He’d have to leave this place

On the morning of his release
As his family waited in the parking lot
He was found in his cell
Eyes seeing but not

They say he had a heart attack
But I know that’s not right
Because he told me he’d die in prison
Just the previous night

These are some of the reasons I now advocate
For my fellow man,
Because life’s not about me
Nor about my plans.

Life is about others,
Our fellow man
How we help others
Is part of life’s plan.

I’m here to tell you
That I’m one of the lucky ones
My sentences spans decades,
And I’ve lost loved ones
There are days where I sometimes cry,
But I am grateful
And here’s one more reason why

There’s a group called the Harmony Project
Rare in this nation, came to my institution
Here’s a summation

For several days we sang and were merry
And through song discovered that we’re much alike
Travelers on life’s paths
Some in darkness, others in light

On one of those days we made tissue paper sunflowers
For a children’s hospice in a far land
The number needed was quite grand

Each sunflower represents a child who passed away
At that children’s hospice,
In a land far away …

And I cradled the first that I had made
… A soft rustle in my hand

I tell you —
I am one of the lucky ones,
My sentence has spanned decades
And I know I’ll lose more loved ones.
There will be days where I cry,
But I will always be grateful,

And those are the reasons why.