A tattooed begging
Handcuffed hands
Is not forgotten
Or fake love
In the loom of Dance
Bar the tasty tang
Bang in water
That drips down a sink
In a cell
Made of steel a curse
To make a connection
A freedom bell
That your God can tell
Is not clear
Until you are in there
The pin in a wheel
In a tale
To say we are here
Hear human
The systems thorough
Until the eyes uncover
Hands rip soil
Gavel rifles march
On the take
Salvation is truth
by Anna D. Smith
The Street Poetz 