I GOT OUT

Prison eventually gives you clarity.
If not, it gives you death.
Yeah, death...
either physically or emotionally.
I chose clarity.
I realized they owned my body,
not my mind.
When incarcerated, a man or woman does time.
Time...time...time...
The sky goes on forever,
so does eternity.
Prison is relative.
It ain't shit,
unless you let it own you.
I kept my body in shape.
I improved my mind.
I kept my eyes and ears open.
I watched.
I listened.
I stopped playin',
except with the parole board.
There, I spoke of spiritual epiphanies,
and finding Jesus.
But I ended with,
"I don't give a fuck about you people anymore".
I told 'em to do what they wanted to do.
I chose not to beg, anymore.
They sensed my internal freedom,
so I got out.
But I really wasn't free.
I never will be.
Neither will you.