Working with teens in Juvenile Justice System. Significant Revision on October 18, 2007. |
Not Too Late Standing, Moving, Pacing Hands in the air Your emotions fill the room Anger, desperation, fear Crowds the air around us And ricochets against walls, floor, ceiling Tell me, What are you feeling? I struggle to understand As you speak with rapid-fire words Pelting my flesh, mind, heart With tiny bullets of fury, pain, and hate You feel like hitting, killing, crying, Running, screaming, like dying You say It's too late And I fear you are right We've failed you We, who are responsible To teach, provide, raise you Sent you to languish in sterile cells Alone with your anger and hate Statistics say It's too late In silence, your wounds fester Fear turns to anger, Frustration to aggression. Best intentions go awry. Your theme: Misunderstood, Baited, Watched. You're Always the one caught. A criminal in training. Your peers convince you It's too late for us all Refuse to believe them, us, yourself Be loud, insist, make us understand So we will cease to ignore you, let you slide, And hear your voice, listen, guide your hand Maybe we'll surprise each other You'll survive, grab hold, break your fall, And we'll realize It's not too late after all |