MY FLOWER (a love poem)

Like a flower blooming
On a warm spring day
One glimpse of you
Takes my breath away.

The beauty of a flower
Innocent and pure
With just enough edge
So that I can't be sure.

Like a flower in the wind
softly sways
It's that kind of peace
That you bring my days.

A flower doesn't say much
Just wins you over with its beauty
That in a nutshell
Is what you do to me.

The warmth of your smile
And the shine in your eye
The wonder of your laughter
Your tears when you cry.

Everything about you
Just steals my heart
An ocean a million miles wide
couldn't keep us apart.

You bring me peace
In my darkest hour
You're everything good in my life
You are my flower.

by Ricky Silva, 2014

TIME

Florida State Prison

If you sit like I do day after day confined at most in ten feet of space, you must find a way to cope.
I have found that time and what I do with it, may by itself be a way to keep me from going crazy.
First I have learned to try and follow a routine of when I wake up and when I go to sleep on a daily basis. This gives me structure daily. Then what I do with my time is important also.
I read a lot. I will not lie and say I try to educate myself with my reading because I have found that a good novel is a way of escaping this madness. I just finished reading the whole Harry Potter series and found that each book took me away, if only for a while.

I also listen to music to pass time. Sometimes songs bring back painful memories, yet painful they are they remind me that I can feel and that's a good thing. Now while I'm structuring my time, as crazy as it may sound, I have to pay no attention to time itself. Just let the hours pass away by engrossing myself in whatever I am doing. So know what I'm doing with my time let forget about my time.

Crazy? Well maybe it is but for my that's the only way I can do the time without letting the time do me.

"Be safe!"

one man caged
Ricky

MORE THAN A POEM

Words pour quickly 
from the tip of my pen.
Thoughts that flow deeply 
come out now and then.

Like a wild beast roars
I can with ink display my rage.
Like a bird in the sky
I can be free of my cage.

I can show the pain
that is tearing my apart.
I can express the love
that lives inside my heart.

Imagine the emotion shared
in a poem unheard.
Yet to some minds
it's just a mixture of words.

There is darkness in poetry 
yet don't dwell on the sorrow.
For in the next line
lives the hope of tomorrow.

With my pen and some paper
I can let my heart roam free.
So it mind be just words to you
but it's more than a poem to me.

by Ricky Silva, 2013

3-D VISION

Just another day, sun shining down.
Birds wake us up, soft chirping sound.
We feel good knowing, we are alive.
But today one man, will surely die.

He lives and loves, like you and me.
He to has his own, preplanned destiny.
He has a family, who loves him dearly.
And with the pain of his loss, will suffer severely.

The man has done wrong, make no mistake.
He has left much wreckage, in his thunderous wake.
Yet like us all, he has good with in.
So which one of us, has the right to kill him?

It's a dark cloud, to live under.
When on your days, someone puts a number.
He regrets the hurt he caused, and knows he was wrong.
He is told he will die, yet tries to remain strong.

He is trapped by a system, that claims no flaw.
Yet they murder often, calling it the enforcement of law.
So as I watch this day, I'm filled with sorrow.
For the soul of one man, will be forgotten tomorrow.

So I feel lucky now, for each and every breathe.
As I reside unwillingly, in this house of death.
A man is murdered, it's 3-D vision we say.
That's how it is, on a Dirty, Deadly, Day!!!

by Ricky Silva, october 2013

A DAY IN 3-D

I awoke today on October 1, 2013. It was just another day. I heard a knock on my window and knew the nurse was on my door. I am a diabetic and 2 times every day the nurse gives me a shot of insulin. I got dressed and went to my door and very quickly was filled with sorrow.

I noticed it was 1 hour earlier than I usually get my shot and that alone was a bad sign. Then I noticed that the guard was wearing a tie and his uniform was pressed and his boots were all shined up. And he was encouraging the wing to be on their best behavior. Important people were in the prison today. Maybe even the secretary of state. It seemed like a holiday.

But to me there was nothing to celebrate for though it was just another day for me.

I knew that today a man would be murdered. How could I know that?

Well in this building they house death row inmates and only on days of a murder do they dress up all fancy and make everything right.

Notice I say murder and not execution. I say that because an execution is nothing but a murder that has been authorized.

I was very close to death row myself so I feel for them.

So today is not just another day. A life will come to an end and though that at one time wouldn't bother me it does today. So for today I'm filled with regret. Regret that a system can take a human life and not only condone it but celebrate the day like a holiday. Today I regret the life I myself took in a heated moment of anger. For life (any life) is valulable though it's hard we should love each other.

So today to show my love for a man who once lived but do to legal murder will live no longer. I will live this day in 3-D.

3-D is what it is - DIRTY, DEADLY, DAY.

My heart goes out to the family of that man for I feel close to him and don't even know his name.

Be safe!

one man caged

Ricky  

TIME TO FIGHT

Throughout it all, I never turned down a fight.

I'm known for swift footwork, and my over hand right. 

I've faced many opponents, and never shied away. 

But I struggle with the one, I face today.

I am my own trainer, and hard I do train. 

I do push ups in the snow, and shadow box in the rain. 

But my opponent is huge, and undenieably tough. 

I feel even all my training, won't be enough. 

But I push myself harder, for courage I have found. 

Yet I know this fight, will come to the last round. 

I remember a past fight, how I suffered a cramp. 

I know I can't let this happen, against the undisputed champ. 

He is the most aggressive fighter, I must give it my all. 

I will fight hard and get back up, should I ever fall. 

I will bob and weave, my chin I will tuck. 

I will fight and fight, and hope for a little luck. 

The lights are bright, as I enter the ring. 

I was prepared for this fight, now I can't remember a thing. 

I am the challenger, yet on the champ I will pounce. 

The champ is coming, the man begins to announce. 

Ladies and gentlemen, he announces aloud. 

And waits a second for the hush of the crowd. 

You are about to witness a fight, we all must face. 

You can't run away, or hide any place. 

Here comes the champ, he is bigger than us all. 

He is tough and brutal, a human wrecking ball. 

He has a killer jab, and a hook like a knife. 

He is the undisputed champion, and his name is Life. 

By Ricky Silva, September 2013

REACH OUT

Imagine being so alone you feel you are surrounded by darkness. Having so much to say and no one to say it to. So much love to give yet no one to receive that love.

You want for a normal conversation the way a thirsty man wants for water in the desert.

You want for human contact, any kind of human contact to remind you you're alive.

A letter would be wonderful but it seems all the people in your life who cared have drifted away like a leaf in an autumn breeze. You recognize the wrong you have done and often blame yourself for how bad things are though you know deep down no one deserves this treatment. Not even you.

You contemplate suicide but somehow find the strength everyday for just one more day. You hang on by a thread of hope because tomorrow might be different.

I can tell you when I feel like this a letter alone make all the difference. So if you're reading this blog, take time to write a letter. How can it hurt? Even if you don't write to me. Choose anyone who is living in a concrete cage like mine. Write to them if for no other reason than to give them someone to talk to.

Open your heart and through you, you could bring the hope that keeps a man alive from day to day with only a caring letter.

Please be safe.

One man caged
Ricky

Ricky Silva DC# L24722

Florida State Prison

7819 N.W. 228th street

Raiford, Florida 32026

U.S.A.

______________________________________________________

REACH OUT

Beautiful colors dance,
across a velvet sky.
As a waterfall of souls,
waves it's good bye.

With a deep breathe of tomorrow,
we live on today.
I was told to pay attention,
but never did pay.

The darkness of the past,
is now taking it's toll.
As my pen unloads it's ink,
my life slowly begins to roll.

I flush memories away,
though some I badly miss.
Even in a picture perfect moment,
I couldn't picture this.

Stripped of all human rights,
though human we are.
Eating through a metal hole,
or between the likes of steel bars.

Locked away frozen in time,
sometimes even for years.
Laughed at when we cry,
for worthless are our tears.

The holidays come,
and slowly they go.
As we suffer a lonelyness,
that makes us feel so small.

We send out letters,
often written in our tears.
And may not ever get a response,
and this is what we fear.

But with that one letter,
in which someone choose to respond.
We have the strength building,
that will allow us to go on.

So if you're reading this reach out,
to someone in solitary.
Write a letter, it can't hurt,
even if it's not to me.

by Ricky Silva, August 2013

ONE MAN

Life would go on,

should I die.

Why does the world ignore,

a lonely cry?

Taking another step,

one foot in front of the other. 

Tripping each other for placement,

falling over one another. 

Like crabs in a pot,

pulling each other down. 

Laughing at life's cruelty,

when no one is around. 

I wonder if I'm human,

as I sit in this cell. 

The way we are all treated,

it's very hard to tell. 

It's the nature of the beast,

to treat each other cruel. 

One will be enslaved,

and one will always rule. 

We need to take a moment, 

to give a helping hand.

We are all so very different,

but a man is a man.

by Ricky Silva, August 2013

TO THEM WE ARE ANIMALS

I sit in my cell today and stay as positive as I can be. I feel really bad and it pisses me off because it can be prevented.

You see I'm a diabetic. My blood sugar without the proper amount of insulin goes very high and causes all types of problem like loss of energy, extreme thirst and headaches. It also over time does horrible things to your body. You can go blind or lose your foot do to poor circulation. 

My blood sugar has been between 200 and 300 every day for 2 weeks now and I can't get it fixed when normal is 100.

To them we are animals. Though I don't think I could treat an animal the way we are treated. 

Should our medical needs be neglected like this? Some believe it's a waste of taxpayers money to even keep us alive let alone supply medication and treatment for something such as diabetes. Do to my situation I would have to disagree :)

What about you? If you are reading this, you have an opinion? Should I shut up and deal with it as part of my sentence? Am I asking for something I don't deserve based on my actions? Or is it cruel to punish someone every day with the effects of a disease that could kill him by neglecting and refusing to give medical attention?

I would like a response. Often I have to evaluate my way of thinking and other people's insights help. So please feel free to comment. 

I will keep a post as often as I can. 

Until my next post - be safe. 

One man caged

Ricky

Ricky Silva DC# L24722

Florida State Prison

7819 N.W. 228th street

Raiford, Florida 32026

U.S.A.

QUESTIONS

24 hours in a day.

Why not 23?

So many people succeed. 

Why not me?

Why doesn't the apple,

fall far from the tree?

Why does fate choose,

to play tricks on me?

What happens to smoke,

when it disappears in the wind?

Why do we all make a mistake,

and the same thing again?

Are people in general,

destined to fail?

Is life really nothing but,

a game of heads or tails?

Is it right to stare at each other,

with a look of disdain?

Should we all get pleasure,

from someone else's pain?

If I said I'm a changed man,

would you believe it's true?

While I am being judged,

is someone judging you?

Should we mourn a stranger,

who lies in bed with cancer?

So many questions. 

Do we really want answers?

by Ricky Silva, August 2013

ROOMMATES

I told you in my last post how other close management camps have roommates. Well all of them do except Florida State Prison. At all the other close management camps once you reach level 2 you will have a roommate some out of fear.

A lot of the people, I would say about half of the people on close management, believe it or not, are not even trying to get off. They are either to weak to endure the pressures of open population or they have made so many enemies that even if they had powers like superman they wouldn't be safe. So those types of people don't want roommates because this solitary confinement for them is a form of protective custody.

Then there are people that don't want a roommate because it is very comfortable to have a cell to yourself and not have to worry about dealing with another person and his habits in your cell. There is a good chance you may end up with someone you don't get along with or see eye to eye with on a lot of things. Once this person is in your cell the guards will not move either one of you out of the cell unless there is a serious altercation involving violence. Which means, as they tell you, no blood, no move. 

So for good reasons a lot of people would don't want to take the chance. 

I'm not sure if I would want a roommate or not. On the one hand I would enjoy the company, maybe someone to play cards or chess with and talk to. I would enjoy all that. On the other hand sharing this tiny cell would not be easy. So if I'm to be honest I really don't know if I would rather have a roommate or not and it really doesn't matter because they won't be giving me one until I go back to population. 

Moving on to the next post, I had a friend ask me a interesting question. She asked: Why is a friend so hard for a convict to find? And why he can't find a friend among other convicts?

Those are 2 very good questions and I will answer both in one of my next posts.  

If anyone reading this has any questions they would like me to answer or maybe need me to clear up something I already wrote, feel free to write me and ask. I will either write you back with an answer or post the answer on the blog. You can reach me with a letter, email (you find it at my blog profile) or by writing a comment. 

Please ( be safe )

One man caged

Ricky

Ricky Silva DC# L24722

Florida State Prison

7819 N.W. 228th street

Raiford, Florida 32026

U.S.A.

GLASS WINDOW

GLASS WINDOW

tues July 2

Outside my window, when often I look.

I see so much failure, to many chances took.

I see very little sunshine, and a whole lot of rain.

I see despair and misery, smiling at pain.

I see a forest of hate, raw and true.

I see all the insanity, coming unglued.

I see a river of blood, with a current so swift.

I see a heart ripped out, presented as a gift.

I look out my window, and see a bird in a cage.

I see frustration and anger, even simmering rage.

I see so much, I have learned to despise.

I see murderous intent, staring into my eyes.

When I look out my window, I see the pain of years

and slowly but surely, my eyes fill up with tears.

Because it's not a window at all, it's a mirror, you see?

And all that's in my eyes, staring back at me.

by Ricky Silva, July 2013

STAYING POSITIVE

I stare out of my cage,

at the fences and wire. 

I was so full of fight,

but I'm beginning to tire.

I once walked straight,

head held tall.

But it's been a long journey,

behind these walls.

I'm not ready to give up,

at least not yet. 

But I lack something to look forward to,

and I'm filled with regret.

As I lay down at night,
on this thin piece of steel.
I get often confused,
about the way that I feel.

Sometimes wild forms of anger,
fill my emptiness inside.
And then there is the sadness,
that often choose to hide.

But with each and every breathe,
life will go on.
And to all the hate and negativity,
I choose not to respond.

I've come across a lot of wisdom,
but have so much to learn.
So if today it's not productive,
it is not my concern.

by Ricky Silva, July 2013

F.S.P.

Florida State Prison (F.S.P.).

The place where I lay my head. The home of over 1000 convicts all of which are on long term solitary confinement. Better known as "close management". All confined to a cell alone. There are no roommates here. All of the convicts here started on 1 of the 3 levels. None will leave solitary in less than 6 month and most will be here a few years.

You go up in front of the review board every 6 months but it's a joke because even if you have no write ups for those 6 months they will keep you on the same level based on whatever excuse they decide to give.

I have just made level 2. I was on level 1 for almost 4 years. So it's a real kangaroo court. 

There are 90 or 95 cells on each wing. All cells are pretty much built the same. There are many fences and towers surrounding the prison and hundreds of cages used for outdoor recreation. There are 3 guards posted on each wing at any given time. Every time you leave your cell you are handcuffed through your food flap befor they even open your door. They take no chances. So there is almost no risk to their safety. 

When I say all cells are built the same I mean: metal sink, metal toilet, foot locker (to store property), a thin sheet of metal protruding from the wall to place your mattress "mat" on. A window in the back of the cell that fortunately we are able to open and close as we choose. Not that F.S.P. is good but it's a little better than some of the solitary units I have heard about across the country. 

There are some cases of severe violence or even murder when a convict manages to take off his restraints or is on level 3 where they don't always use handcuffs or shackles because level 3 is a lesser security level. But other than that there is not a whole lot of physical violence. Just a lot of people making empty threats, yelling at someone out of their window. 

Most are happy to be in a cell by themselves for all different reasons. Some are scared to have a roommate, some like the solitude and the freedom of not sharing any space.

I personally am not sure if I would want a roommate or not. Some close management camps have roommates. I will explain about that and my choice in the next post.

Until than, be safe.

one man caged
Ricky

Ricky Silva DC# L24722

Florida State Prison

7819 N.W. 228th street

Raiford, Florida 32026

U.S.A.

LAW OF THE LAND

Wandering softly,
through the forest one night.
I came across a bear,
spoiling for a fight.

You woke me up of hibernation,
for that you must pay.
But first I will listen,
to what you have to say.

No one has ever come,
and woke me out of my sleep.
What do you have to say,
you pathetic little creep?

I'm sorry Mr Bear,
please don't kill me.
Look, I left a basket of food,
under that tree.

So you seek to bribe me with food,
but that won't work.
I will still kill you,
but I'll eat your food first.

But as the bear turned,
he felt a spear in his heart.
He looked back at me,
from a few feed apart.

He said you tricked me,
you cheating little man.
I said I did nothing at all,
but live by the law of your land.

by Ricky Silva, August 2013

THE LAWS OF THE LAND

Hello, I'm back!
By now you have read about my friend who committed suicide in December 2012. This is the kind of things that happen. Solitary confinement on a long term basis effects the mind deeply. He was not weak minded but there is only so much one person can take.

I told in the last post of th law of the land. In my mind it goes like this:
Every land has their own laws. Those laws to us may seem unfair, unjust or even uncivilized. Yet if we choose to travel to that land, reguardless of how we feel, we must live by those laws.
About 20 years ago you mind remember a case where a teenage American boy was caught spray painting a van in Singapore. The sentence for the vandalism charge was 8 strokes by the cane (he was caned 8 times). Harsh punishment for such a small offense. Well it gets worse, after 4 strokes of the cane the boy passed out from the pain. And guess what, they wouldn't finish they waited for him to become awake again to be sure he could feel every stroke of the cane.

They did this to a teenage American and there was nothing America could do. You can guess why?
Because the boy was in a foreign land and even if we feel the laws are unfair we must honor them.

Well it's the same way in prison. You may not agree with the way things are done or you might be repulsed by the savage way some people live around you. But the laws are the laws. So you devise a way to keep yourself from becoming a complete animal and yet still survive around a lot of people who may not even care if they are human.

You must respect the laws of the land you live in and you must demand the same of the people around you. If the laws require violence you provide for it because if you don't it will be you that suffer and maybe in a way you will never recover from.

As I said this is just my point of view. You may have some convicts who say they don't honor any laws but their own. But I would say they are full of shit or they won't last long that way. But hey, that's just my point of view.

They moved me from one prison to another in May 2013. Now I'm in Florida State Prison and I will tell you about that in my next post.
Be safe.

one man caged
Ricky

Ricky Silva DC# L24722

Florida State Prison

7819 N.W. 228th street

Raiford, Florida 32026

U.S.A.

JUST ANOTHER STORY

Included in this post is the poem "Just Another Story" and I call it that because though to the average person that story might seem horrible but in my surroundings it's just another story.

It is a short version of my life to date but compared with some stories around me it isn't even so bad. So a lot of us on solitary have similar stories.

I would say now, it was not an easy life for a lot of us and no, it does not excuse what put us here but for a lot of us, we never quite understand how wrong we were living and that includes me. 

If I had half the knowledge I have now when I was 18 years old, I know for a fact my life would be a lot different as would the life of the people I hurt in an attempt to make my own pain go away. 

I can not change the things I have done, I can't take them back nor can I make them go away. I can't give life back to the man I took it from and to be honest I'm still not sure I would want to. 

But I recognize all the wrong I did. I realize I had no right to take a life even if I felt justified. And for sure I had no right to instill fear in people and take their money for the selfish purpose of getting drugs to escape my own life. 

And though a lot of people doubt it's possible, I have changed and am changing every day.

Will it free me from prison? No, it won't. But becoming a better man for me is a purpose in itself. It feels good to see a better man staring back at me in my crusty little mirror.
And there are a lot more convicts just like me being put through the mental torture of being isolated in the concrete boxes they call cells. We try every day against the odds to become better men. Dealing with the punishment for the hurt we caused, when for a lot of us we know no one will ever pay for the hurt they caused us, setting a lot of us off down a dirty dead end street at a young age.

I caught another convict, who was already in prison for raping an 11 year old girl, masturbating while looking at a picture of my 9 year old niece and I snapped. I completely lost it and I killed him.

Have I forgiven him for his actions? Honestly, no I havn't. But I also now can't forgive myself for the murder. Every person has some good in it and even he did also.

That being said couldn't it be just as possible that us men sitting on solitary have good in us also?

Be safe.

One man caged
Ricky
____________________________________________________

JUST ANOTHER STORY

My father died in prison, before I turned two.
My mother beat me when she drank, and beat my brother too.
Even as a baby I was stubborn, to be controlled by a fist or palm.
My mother would put beer in my bottle, just to keep me calm.

My sister was raped by my brother, and it went on for 5 years.
Yet she still offered me a shoulder, to collect my pain filled tears.
My family was insane, but it was the only family I had.
If you never had it good, you don't know when it's bad.

When I was eight years old, my mother beat me bad one day.
I showed up to school black and blue, and they finally took me away.
I felt all alone and filled with fear, living in the house of a stranger.
So I displayed each day through my actions, a heart filled with anger.

Filled with fear and hopelessness, I started pissing the bed.
And that went on until I turned 15, and the little boy in me was dead.
I spent time in many homes, most of the time lost and confused.
Why when I'm supposed to feel safe, am I always being abused?

In a strangers home I was beaten bad, at a very young age.
And it went on and on until I snapped, and flew into a rage.
I attacked the man dishing out the abuse, and I was charged with assault.
So I was physically and mentaly abused, and now it was my fault.

At least in the child detention center, the abuse finally stopped.
I was almost disappointed, when the charges were actually dropped.
So I closed my mind and built a wall, as I went from home to home.
Me against a fucked up world, as I let my broken heart roam.

Throughout all of this, most of my family went away.
But I was almost a man now, so that seemed okay.
I learned the hard way, that I was the only one who cared for me.
So fuck the world and everyone in it, that's how life would be.

At 18 years old with a wandering soul, I ran the dirty streets.
Not knowing it wouldn't be long, before my destiny I would meet.
I finally found a reason to live, I would go insane today.
Cocaine gave me motivation, and took all my pain away.

Cocaine became my goal in life, I always had to have it.
I would lie, chaet and steal, anything for the habit.
I would say cocaine stole my life, but I gave life away myself.
I was sentenced to natural life at 27, I can blame no one else.

Things have happened in my life, I can't begin to understand.
Two years into my sentence, I killed a man with my hands.
It's hard to believe that has been, over four years ago.
Who would of thought this cell, for that long would be the life I know.

I can't claim innocense, or say my crimes should be dismissed.
But neighter can I agree, that me or anyone deserves this.
So I lay awake at night, in my own little hell.
Knowing that me and me alone, got me into this tiny cell.

I can't feel sorry for myself, for I am not alone.
Thousands of prisoners like me, sing the same sad song.
I don't write all this, so the reader will feel sorry for me.
Because as bad as it sounds, in here it's just another story.

by Ricky Silva, July 2013

FEAR NOT

With each breath of wind, nature slowly unfolds.

With each setting trend, another story is told. 

So as I look at the construction, of the world today

I inhale the destruction, that just won't go away. 

Yet deep in a corner, there is a spot of great peace. 

A place so much warmer, where there is no police.

A place from the past, that we use to know.

A place of green grass, lightly covered in snow. 

Today is so cloudy, I hope for the shine of the sun. 

My thoughts become rowdy, when I think of the battles I've won. 

When my confidence seems low, I easily deceive you. 

What you have to know, I never believed true. 

So with all that said, is life what it really seems. 

Only when we are dead, will we know what life really means. 

So I open up my mind, to the ideas of all

Because in do time, we all must fall.

So when I leave this world, and give my final good bye. 

I won't have a casket of pearls, but you'll find love in my eyes. 

I've gripped all the terms, of a troubling life. 

So when I rest with the worms, I'll make joy my wife. 

Right now death, might be coming near. 

But my last breath, I will not fear. 

I will let the memories of yesterday, put a smile on my face. 

And I will take my life and live the rest today, and sleep on sheets of lace. 

by Ricky Silva, July 2013

CONVICT JUSTICE

Hello, greetings from a dark place!

I promised in my last post to tell of "Convict Justice", what it is and why it's needed. The guards wield a lot of power but they use it only for their benefit. They enforce the rules they want to enforce and when they want to enforce them. 

For example someone may of just purchased a lot of stuff from the inmate canteen and is on the way back to the dorm. 3 or 4 guys may jump on him, beat him up and take his canteen. So now after he is seen by medical, he tells the guards what happen. Their response will be "Well, go beat them up and take your stuff back!"

So being that the guards choose to do nothing about the things that control the safety of all convicts, we must in many ways police ourselves. Maybe that convict is only able to catch one of the people who did it and give him a good ass kicking or hit him upside the head with a piece of rebar or even stab him. Maybe he gets away with it, maybe he doesn't. But that serious act of violence deters a lot of other people from doing shit like that. So though somebody will get hurt real bad or maybe even die. Which is a very serious thing to contemplate. It enables with that one bad act on one day, for the rest of the days to go a lot smoother and for there to more peace. Because with "convict justice" you establish what is accepted and what isn't accepted. 

Unfortunately violence is most of the time all a lot of people understand. People make their choices based on what the outcome is going to be. So if they fear what will happen if they steal or snitch or a number of other things then they will stay away of doing those things. 

This is not the free world. There is little structure. And this little structure there is we make for ourselves. All a lot of us have left is our self respect and you are judged by how much respect you demand. When you live in a wild land you either become a wild man or you don't survive. That's not saying you have to be an animal but first you must survive and to survive in any land you must understand the "laws of the land" and after you understand them you must follow them by yourself and also enforce them which will bring the respect you need, to for the most part be at peace. 

I will take more about "the laws of the land" in my next post. 

Until then, BE SAFE. 

One man caged

Ricky

Ricky Silva DC# L24722

Florida State Prison

7819 N.W. 228th street

Raiford, Florida 32026

U.S.A.

HOPE FOR TODAY

In the world we believe, yet trust we not
In a vision I receive, a pound of buckshot
Upon the highest mountain, you may find truth
And in the clear blue fountain, you may find youth

While living in a bubble, we find knowledge can't be taken
And it's our biggest trouble, that we all been forsaken
We will never ever allow, for a show without us on stage
So we take a stow bow, as the curtain closes on our rage

Over 400 degrees, and in our heart a fire burns
To be extinguished by the seas, of a mind that's been slowly turned
Green is the grass, on which we now and always walk
And to save their dirty ass, many will choose to talk

Yet there is honor amongst some, that holds even today
And the day will soon come, where it doesn't matter what we say
We may choose to forgive, yet not be forgiven our wrong
Today we all live, but it can't last very long

So I contemplate lifes gift, and I slowly start to plot
My feet begin to shift, along this twisty path I trot
Life gives and it takes, this I found to be true
But our outlook makes, the choice for me and you

So though things are bad, I walk head held high
I may at times be sad, but joy lives in tomorrows sky
You may not control today, but you today can change tomorrow
So let a smile push your blues away, caress hope and say goodbye to sorrow

by Ricky Silva, july 2013