Hell´s Waiting Room
By Devon Terrell
Gave up my promises
You took my song
I have no voice left
Gave up my home
Who has 4gotten me
Where have they gone
Future hard 2 see
The past is all I own
2 men housed N a box
1 bottom bunk and 1 on top
The only thing they agree upon
Is 2 not get along
Silence comes from concrete
Pillow only 1 that knows me
The mind begs spirit 4 peace
We pray YAH will soon release
Where have my children gone
Babies full grown
Picture take place
Of me not being there every day
Days turn N2 years
Years stare death in the face
State of Illinois
Don´t forgive young man mistakes
Drink water from a corroded sink
Eat meals that don´t nourish me
Shower only 3 days a week
1 eye open is how I sleep
4got how a woman´s touch feels
Or her sweet words that can truly heal
Can be killed by guard or resident
Hell´s waiting room is where I live.
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| Devon Terrell #R70180 Stateville Correctional Center P.O. Box 112 Joliet, IL 60434 |
Hello World, Thanks for allowing this inner-city kid from the south side of Chicago to share his thoughts and emotions on what it means to be a man, father, son and brother navigating through life while enduring the oppression, discrimination, segregation and stereotyping that come with incarceration. I hope you will see a human and not an animal, a mature adult and not the immature kid that brought me here, and I hope you’ll see a productive and promising future and not a DOC number condemned to a lifetime of punishment for a bad choice in a bad moment during my youth. Peace and blessings to you all. Love, Devon K. Terrell Sr.
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