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Years,

Decades,

Centuries…

So much time…wasted

Sleeping in this century

While some rot,

Others…

Are holding on to a thin line of hope…

That one day…

They can see the light

The light at the end of the tunnel,

No matter how dim and frail

It may be,

It’s enough…

To get them to their feet.

Seeing the errors of their ways

Some realize it’s time for change…

As a man thinketh

So is he…

The stronger the mind

The better off that man will be.

The soul glows,

The spirit becomes enlightened,

But the body remains stationary…

Locked away to be forgotten.

Years,

Decades,

Centuries…

So much time

Can cause a man to be broken

Yet…

Some choose to keep fighting,

Dreaming,

Hoping,

Pushing through the darkness

That’s trying to cloud their minds

So they can keep their eyes…

On that dim little light

At the end of the tunnel.

Looking towards the mountain

Where those that have the power

To make a change dwell…

Praying that they would consider

Adding a little wood to the fire so the light…

So the light…

At the end of the tunnel

Can burn brighter.

Change…

It’s time for change.

No longer should we stand by and allow things to remain the same…

Years,

Decades,

Centuries…

So much time…

So much misery.

📬

These stories arrive by mail.

Every month, a physical envelope arrives at your door, postmarked from San Quentin Village, California. Inside, you will find original artwork, writing, and recipes from real contributors, along with a personal letter from me, Diane Kahn, founder of Humans of San Quentin, about the people who made them. You read it. You keep it.

Every piece comes from someone serving a sentence. Every piece reminds you they are so much more than that.

📬 Join the Mail Club

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