Personal Letters

An American Injustice

In the silence of darkness I wake... I wake within walls where another man I see - Whom is he?

I wake anticipating the gloom of yet another day... I wake among foes, I exist in dismay - Who am I?

In numbness I walk through halls rife with hate... where harden tears glisten paved ways - Where am I?

Voiceless... Whether they scream for help or cry ones name, muffled are the condemned - Can you imagine their dread?

Bereft are the men whom exist in this place... exist to themselves for most forgotten along the way - Whom are they?

Torturous is this lawless place... where the held are mistreated as slaves: yet to the world there's pretense that all is okay - Who their keeper?

I write for myself for each case not the same... some men very-well deserve this place... while others, as I, languish hopelessly misplaced... Another night has come, again to tears I succumb with frail hopes that perhaps tomorrow JUSTICE may dawn.

Daniel A. Rodriguez, A.A.I

The Author

My name is Daniel Angel Rodriguez: I'll start by underscoring that every word, sentiment, every TAB and illustration was written and fashioned by me. If there's error in punctuations, spellings, grammar or articulations, they are solely of my doing. I'm NO scholar.. 

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