I’M NOT FROM NOWHERE
I’m from a town of death, drugs and storms
I’m from a street where a color can get your skin punctured like a thorn does your thumb
Sound of violence leaves your heart numb
So you grow up protecting yourself with a gun
I’m from a street where when you see the cops you hide or run
If you sell drugs you should buy a gun
If you are scared to put in work
You should go to church
Because in these streets if you are soft you will get really hurt
It makes you cry and wonder when you see your homie dead with 30 bullet holes in his shirt
So if you wanna survive turn your life over to god and go to church
And when people ask do you wanna bag or sling say no
So you don’t end up on a shirt
JR* is a young man with gravitas beyond his years. While we wrote he was quiet and focused; the lines of his poem emerged with facility. He wrote with confidence and clear-eyed sincerity. He knows of what he speaks. The last line of his poem gives me a visceral reaction. It's simultaneously prosaic and profound. (*a pseudonym)
— Kathleen, Mentor at Detention Project