Monday, March 25, 2019
IOWA PRISON WRITING PROJECT


Holding Hand’s Blues

CLIFFORD A. J., IOWA


I miss my Mama blue. How did this happen? Oh, how I miss Mama blue. This did happen. My Mam’s takin’ a long lonely walk. She’s be’in’ led out by the Captain. I miss my Mama blue. What did I go and do? Now, I miss Mama blue. Cause what I up’n’ do. My Mama’s at home. Fixin’ eggs for Papa. I’m far from home, wishin’ I be at that table too. I miss my Mama blue. Can I make this up? Missin’ Mama blue. How can I make this up? My Mama’s raisin’ my bulldog. She’s had him since he be a pup. I miss my Mama blue. She thinks this be her fault. As I miss Mama blue. No way this be her fault. I. Hate. This. Feels like my Mama’s doin’ time too. I Committed My Crime. I Feel It Be My Fault. I miss my Mama blue. She be prayin’ daily. Lord, missin’ Mama blue. I be prayin’ nightly. We both enjoy goin’ and congregating. We love goin’ and worshipping. I miss my Mama blue. She’s my biggest fan. I’ll always miss my Mama blue. I’m her biggest fan. My Mama will never give up hope. Till we Both, take that long walk out, together. Soon. Hand in Hand . . .