This is Izell Robinson, Minnesota inmate number 210006, a Minnesota inmate confined within the quadrilaterals of systemic injustice, fighting for justice and to be heard. But in order to be heard, I need to the listeners to hear me and act.
Today, I wanted to do a piece that I wrote called “Wake Up Before It’s Too Late.” It’s more of like a spoken word type poetry type piece. This is “Wake Up Before It’s Too Late.”
Invisible strings of tearless tears, shedding the silence of displaced emotions that trickle hurt, pain, and anger until it consumes undeveloped scabs, exposing an unspoken trauma only seen the nightmares where the Bible was unpreserved.
When the path to hope disappear and moments froze as if time could stand still or stiffen up in handcuffs and foot shackles just to be stripped of humanity while left confined behind barbed wire and concrete tombs. Only if it was that easy to shake madness off, entering into a new year with COVID and other old fears, clouded with confusion ‘cause it’s clear and in as far from near, knowing what it means to be living to die as arms are flooded with vaccine after vaccine, still destruction isn’t easing and global warming appears to be a valid reason.
So just go ahead and continue to deny heightened manmade crimes for justice to become a lie. But this world is so cold. Too much violence exists because the hate continues to recycle, so there’s no separation of moral rights and wrongs. Forget about the bended knees and folded hands, yet screams for change vibrate within protests that boomerangs off cries and visuals of the last victims, more real eyes on a wall mural. Could it be unforgettable faces to reveal why? To be civil.
Maybe it’s a battle against choice when peace is something chose. Still seeing war before the trumpet blows. Only echoes of gunshots and the aftermath of poor killing poor. Sad because these days the youth dying more and more. Out of the womb, no space for babies to grow cause American greed too many sold. And water with a lack of empathy until the heart is empty, void of reckoning when there’s no clean slate. But never forget life is at stake. Bam! Just wake up before it’s too late.
These commentaries are recorded by Prison Radio.