Orange is Not the New Black
By Tamyara Brown
He was only thirteen, innocent face, confused heart, twisted mind, and broken soul. Hands behind his back, dressed in orange, guarded by the officers of the law. His story pre written by statistics. No one gives a fuck that he was given this world with the belief because of his complexion he is destined to be dressed in orange and handcuffs. Black Boy Lost, right now he has less in his mind having money means your blessed. Living the street life means You're a King. He stands before a judge with his fate in his hands sentence is unjust and the crime doesn't fit the punishment. He was only thirteen weighing grow man shoes. Orange Can't be the new black.and prison cells is not his future. Someone assist, rise up this Prince and remind him his destination is not a place with steel bars. That chasing dreams of ruling the streets that are filled with potholes of destruction is temporary.Following the road paved in gold and his destination is success. Someone tell him that his attire of orange jumpsuits and handcuffs are not his style. That he deserves to wear business suits, dress in his best jeans. Remind him that he is not subjected to just three hots and a cot. He can raise above this moment. He was only thirteen, innocent face, confused heart, twisted mind, and broken soul. Someone told that if he ain't nice on the mic or dribble a ball. If he can't sing his blues won't be heard. The evil of hood versus hood. Living in the ghetto because wasn't it said their is beauty in the struggle. That the streets make us and not break us. Slinging dope means I am accepted. Living broke means I am buster. I am Here to tell you that baby boy orange is never The New Black. Living in a cell of hell is not your destiny. Orange is Not the The New Black.
Author Tamyara Brown
My love for writing is unconditional. It is my sanity in this crazy world.