Todd Jones

Todd J Jones #333660
CCI
PO Box 900
Portage, Wi 53901

WHAT IS PRISON?
Prison is:
A place where you write letters and can't think of anything to say... A place where you wait for letters that come less and less often ... A place where you gradually stop writing all together. A place where you lost respect for the law because you see it raw, naked, bent, ignored and blown out of proportion to suit the people who enforce it... A place where it is proven that absolute power corrupts absolutely. A place where you wait for a visit that doesn't happen... and although you know the real reason, you have to accept the lies. A place where you learn that nobody needs you... you are the forgotten man, and the world goes on without you... A place where you discover that all of the talents and abilities you have are worthless, for you are a man in green. A place where you receive your divorce papers and you learn the meaning of the words "Till Death Do us part"... for the outside world you are a dead man. A place that doesn't exist in the minds of friends, for they cannot put it on an envelope, nor can they find it in a car... A place that exists only in a time warp, for you are only remembered in past tense... and that's probably appropriate, for you can see no future. A place where days blend into weeks, months merge into years, and eons pass without feeling the touch of a human hand unless it is raised in anger... A place where a kind word and an affectionate touch are only memories. A place where basic humanity is ignored, discarded, and eventually forgotten... A place where men are stripped of their clothes as well as their dignity, and herded like the beast society believes them to be. A place where you go to bed early, even if you are not tired; you walk in circles, even though you have nowhere to go; and you pull the covers over head, even though you're not cold. A place where escape is possible, but only through reading, dreaming, or just plain going mad. Can a man survive prison and resume a useful life? If he can overcome the degradation that is heaped upon him, society will continue to remind him that he is tainted. Does he deserve what he got? Of course! And smug society can be assured that it bas done the right and proper thing. Until... circumstances, errors, accidents, or a mistake in the judicial system flips the table and they find themselves in the shoes of the man in the cell next door!!!!
by: Mr. Todd Jones, #333660
P.O. Box 900 (CCI)
Portage, Wi 53901

THE HOLE
You wanna walk in my shoes, well here you go, gone try them on/ be sure to let me know what it's like, when you sit in this cell all alone./ You gone trip, but don't start tweaking, when you see flies flying around/ cause that's just the beginning, wait till you see, them fruitflies that patrol the ground./ Your days become planned out to the tee, while you wait for the next big argument/ you hope that carries you to about 4:30, till you get that delivery from the mail department./ Well let me rephrase that because I forgot to tell you something you should know/ Don't plan your days around getting some mail, cause you gone be sick when the mailman passes your door./ Asking other brothaz "Was that mail?" when you know damn well it was/ just that feeling of hurt & shock, cause ain't nobody wrote to show they love./ Don't get mad though, because at one point or another, its happened to all of us/ you'll forget all ya pains anyway, especially when that med cart pull up at ya door like a city bus./ Its 40,000 ways to pass time, but yet down here we chose one/ conversation about any & everythang, ribbing each other just to have fun./ The c.o.s, oh they become victims, mainly crued by the circumstances/ you try to be cool cause every 30 days, you hoping that the review boards handed out them advancements./ One to you of course, no doubt, while the rest go out to ya guys/ when they come ask a cat they shoe £ clothes sizes, I wish I could see the reaction of their eyes./ To so many of us, this hole ain't nothing, so we accept it as it come/ we soldier on every damn day, but we don't march to the beat of the drum./ The hole is pretty unique, so don't break no rules to come here/ then you got the crisis worker at ya door, asking bout ya pills that'll keep you in gear./ Plus don't get all spooked when cats kick the door, like a soccer player kick the ball for a goal/ man be honest what did you expect, you just spent a day up in the hole.
by: Mr. Tod Jones, #333660 P.O. Box 900 (CCI) Portage,WI 53901

Wake Up Call
Is this a hellish nightmare that I have awaken from?
Caged and confined, thinking and pondering,
I wonder what human is this
that he should be subject to imprisonment
that neither improves nor corrects his soul.
Is there compassion for restoring a man
to contribute to this nation?
Or does the dark side of humanity
see offenders of the law as utter undesirables
unworthy of aid and therapy?
Society, I have been tried and sentenced.
Serving time for violating the law
is not supposed to be a picnic.
But demoralizing and dehumanizing a man
to the dust of the ground does not correct behavior
which got him incarcerated in the first place.
This only fuels the fire, a fire which, if not handled properly, will in time burn everything in its path.
NOW, WHO IS THE CRIMINAL?

by: Mr. Todd Jones, #333660 P.0. Pox 900 (CCI)
Portage, WI 53901

As you got up this morning, I watched you, and hoped you would talk top me, even if it was just a few words, asking my opinion or thanking me for something good that happened in your life yesterday. But I noticed you were too busy, trying to find the right outfit to wear.
When you ran around the house getting ready, I knew there would be a few minutes for you to stop and say hello, but you were too busy. At one point you had to wait fifteen minutes with nothing to do except sit in a chair. Isaw you spring to your feet. I thought you wanted to talk to me but you ran to the phone and called a friend to get the latest gossip instead. I watched patiently all day long, with all your activities I guess you were to busy to say anything to me.
I noticed that before lunch you looked around, maybe you felt embarrassed to talk to me, that is why you didn't bow your head. You glanced three or four tables over and you noticed some of your friends talking to me briefly before they ate, but, you didn't. That's okay. There is still more time left, and I hope that you will talk to me yet.
You went home and it seems as if you had lots of things to do. After a few of them were done, you turned on the TV. I don't know if you like TV or not, just about everything goes there and you spend a lot of time each day in front of it not thinking about anything, just enjoying the show. I waited patiently again as you watched the TV and ate your meal, but again you didn't talk to me.
At bedtime I guess you were too tired. After you said goodnight to your family you plopped into bed and fell asleep in no time. That's okay because you may not realize that I am always there for you. I've got patience, more than you will never know. I even want to teach you how to be patient with others as well.
I love you so much that I wait everyday for a nod, prayer or thought, or a thankful part of your heart. It's hard to have a one-sided conversation.
Well, you are getting up once again. Once again I will wait, with nothing but love for you. Hoping that today you will give me some time. Have a nice day!
Your friend, God