“From Prison Pages to Peace”

For 30 years, off and on, I wrote what filled my mind,
three hundred poems from the book of my life,
drawings not done not so artsy at all,
both the broken parts and ones that shine.

 

Ink my currency, truth I did not withhold,
starting in a prison cell at fifty-five years old.

No commissary, no stamps, or snacks to spare,
I wrote for men with words to send back home to share.

 

For mothers, sisters, girlfriends dear,

their voices I would lend,
And in return, small comforts came
Just enough to help myself fend.

 

I watched the artist’s sketch and ink,
their talents surpassed all but a few,
And took a class within those walls,
to learn to draw and see could too.

 

My early work was rough at best, more than tacky,
if I’m honest still,
gut time and practice shaped my hand,
and slowly grew my skill.

When freedom came, and years rolled on, I built a different life,
With sober steps and steady hands I left behind the strife.

A business born in Texas soil, with trucks and crews to guide,
through AA, NA, and true grit, I turned my life around inside.

Now older, with these poems and pictures made a life in pencil and verse set free,
For Rafe, Renee to better understand, the man I finally became to be.

But Billy, brother, this is yours…

Your faith in me has shown a way,
how to give my words a living home,
and for that I am proud to say…

“Love you Brother Bill”

​

-Peter