Teen Poetry Collections

Writing Rhymes

 by a young man in detention

Observations reservations
there’s not a lot of communications
behind these white walls,
I walk through these white halls
I’m locked up behind these white bars,
I miss the days we used to steal cars
I used to always be off the bars,
days go by, no weeks, I can’t remember
the last time I kissed my momma’s
cheek, I never really used to think,
now it’s too late, I keep
praying that they will crack them
gates, all this hate, anger, despair
I wonder who really cares?
It feels like there is a million
stares everywhere I go, I walk slow
Deep down I have no hope I remember
When I used to have to sell dope just
to get by deep inside it made me
cry, to me I was ruining families hopes,
dreams I wonder what would you do if
you were me?