Captivity Without Sunlight

Guest Contributor: Marcus Pettiford

I have not been exposed to sunlight in 27 days. Who knew that sunlight is such a luxury? There are people in the nation without clean drinking water. We’re called “prisoners.” Not to mention the children in Flint. Everyday I scrape my soul for humanity just to make it through. The majority of us have lost our way. The frequency of these cement walls became our being. I am surrounded by junkies and zombies. The system did not correct us. I’m starting to feel like the last survivor. Captivity without sunlight makes a man worse. 

Captivity without sunlight breaks the spirit. Still we adapt, and morph into something unrecognizable. We live. We die. We leave no footprints behind. We laugh, but we dare not cry. Every fool knows crying makes a man weak. How did a decade slip by without me noticing?

Even the roaches have moved on with their lives, but I’m still here. The children have graduated and gave birth, but I’m still here. The theory of time makes my heart ache. It reminds me of the life I did not live. How did a decade pass by without me progressing?

I used to watch movies about men like me when I was a child. The brotha that murders his brotha, goes to prison, educates himself, and exercises as if his life depends on it. Damn…Isn’t that something…

Marcus Pettiford is an artist in JAC’s network. Check out his portfolio here, and read more about him and hear him talk in a past Artist Spotlight. 

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