This piece is by Isabel Mercado, a writer and a senior at Ventura High School.
I know my future because I know my history.
Ghetto Prison, we won’t stop until we are free
We will rise in the city of fallen angels
If money is the root of all evil then greed is the seed
Private Prisons, this isn’t livin’
Perhaps we take because nobody is giving
America is a rich man’s vision and a poor man’s prison.
The world is dying and we’ve all gone mad
When will it all end?
Too many blacks and browns hurt by the system, were victims of legal sin and we beg for mercy when condemned by evil men
There is no love in the heart of the city. If there is a god where is she?
This is what I see
We are no longer slaves but we sure as hell aren’t free.
So until we don’t have to kill and steal for a family, tattoo these words I just spoke on my chest and read them aloud when I break all the rules on the behalf of every innocent criminal.