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Orange & Grey

I have not been outside in nearly two years. This is the truth. I do not seek to amplify what is. Yet even longer the totality of my confinement.


My outside privileges have been stripped from me. Stripped into stripes,

Everything is orange and grey,

The transport jumpsuits are orange,

The food is orange,

The stripe uniforms are grey,

The underwear and socks are orange,

The walls and floors are grey,

The aluminum sink-toilet combination in the cell is metallic grey,

My palms are orange, maybe from lack of sunlight,

My beautiful black hair has turned gray, perhaps due to excess concern,

The scarce amount of moisture has turned my skin into an ashen grey,

Please my love come back today.


This poem was written in 2016 just before I was forced to trial. At the time, I had not been allowed outside for 21 consecutive months. Every time I was transported to court, I was routed from one underground garage to another. A few random times a week, I was allowed into a concrete cage with metal slits above head. This is the only time I breathed fresh air. However, the ever present Arm of the Lord was with me then, just as He is with me now.


Please visit www.ClemencyForTaquarius.com and get the truth about my case.




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