Juvenile and Group Home's

Anger at the world for no reason.I ran away from home.Throwing up my middle finger to authority. A rebel with no cause, but anarchy fueled my desire. Breaking laws was my mission, and it was accomplished.The man yanked me up by my collar. Giving me the gift of two shiny bracelets.A uncomfortable bed, also meals that were unateable.There before me the judge looking down upon me.
Saying, son what do you think about the army! I replied do I look like army material! 
He smiled an said son; 
You'll be with us until your eighteen!
At the time I was only sixteen.Thinking I was a man 
Not knowing the hardship before me.I took it an smiled giving the judge no satisfaction. Dressed in orange arms and legs cuffed. In my mind scared, but the outside showing no fear. I arrived at my home for the next year.
Juvenile! 
My thoughts​ racing as the doors opened up and locked behind me.
This boy all alone only myself to depend on.The others stair me down. Looking for weakness. 
Only there was none. All of us boys lost with no care for humanity. Some in there for petty reason. Others for worse. As I enter my ceil. I meet my ceil mate. He was a young African American. He was a gang banger.
It was in bedded in his family roots.
We both quickly admire one another. Similar back ground just different in skin color. Stuck in this box of misery together. This is were I found poetry as a escape. Writing to keep my young mind at easy, and my hand not idle. Still that box wore me down. One day a simple your momma joke. Enraged my hatred. Causing me to lash out on another teen. As I punch his face! A moment of freedom came over me. The guards tackled me to the ground. Cuffing me sending me back to my ceil. My ceil mate look in shame. Hey man your better than that he said. Don't let these people control your mind! I know your not weak like that! Afterwards I had the most respect. I ever had for a person. From then on out me, and him kept each other mentally strong. Weird how my release day came, and I was more scared of leaving. Then I was coming in. Not knowing where I would end up.All the guards giving me advice on staying free. At first I thought I was getting sent to a family members house, but I was wrong. Seventeen one more year to go. Under the man's authority! They sent my to a group home in a trailer park. Thinking to myself,
Hell I'll be right back to juvenile soon enough! Luckly my attitude didn't quite match their likings.
Once again sent to a different group home. On the out side it seem great. Big house an nice looking white people. Only that was just a gimmick.The state gives a 1,000$ a teen. Unknown to me I wanted to stay. Compared to my last group home. It was a better place I thought. After my social worker leaves.The real side of these nice people appear. Revealing their strict rules. Ok listen up son! Here's the rules around here! You'll get one soda, one glass of milk, and all the water a day you need. There is a lock on the fridge.Therefore you'll a to ask for anything out of it. It's our decision if you get it.You'll eat when we feed you. Three times a day. You give us any trouble! We will call your social worker, and be sent back to juvenile! In my head thinking damn I miss juvenile already. Just one more year.
Finally one good thing.I get to go back to school. That excitement was short lived. As I got on the bus. The kids all looking at me like a murderer. Quickly it spread like wild fire. Oh he's one of the kids from that crazy group home! Tainting my being right away.
Back to hell! Of course, now the school security guard made me his personal target. Because my choice of friends. He gave me random locker checks. Making sure I had no weapons. One day a kid thought it would be funny. Telling him I had a gun. He and the police rushing me with guns drawn.Throwing me to the ground. Afterwards my people from the ground home, and social work all meet. Almost sending me back to juvenile.Thank God they didn't. Now only 6 months left.
With freedom almost at my finger tips! Happiness came back to my life. I was on my best behavior
Finally the day came. Overwhelmed with excitement of leaving this horrible place! I started my new life.
Never looking forward to every seeing those people again. An that's how I spent my sixteen, seventeen, and eighteenth​ birthdays. All my holidays locked up as a teen. If you read this as a young teen. All I ask is be better than me. Put all your anger in something passionate. Give yourself a chance at life. I missed alot in those years. I never let them break my spirit, but they broke my chance at life. They took away a lot of unmade memories. Good luck young world!