“JURISDICTION”

They have custody,

but this isn't their child,

yet they beat that boy

like he is, while he's

still in cuffs.

I'm in opposition to help,

in the box, all I can do

is rest my head

on the door's glass window,

close my eyes,

and pray.

A tear escapes,

sprints down my face,

he's brutalized surely

because of his race.

I plead my case

to God

but the inmate's screams

seem to say

God has no jurisdiction here.

Amidst his screams,

before he's beaten

unconscious,

I hear him call

for his mom...

Then all is quiet.

My faith wanders off

somewhere in the silence.

My last thoughts before

I remove my forehead

from the glass window

in my cell door

is of a man calling

out to his mom...

Mother's have no jurisdiction here.