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“I’m an innocent man who has been on Oklahoma’s death row for 24 years for a crime I did not commit. My case has garnered international attention over those years”

When this tragedy happened to me
Hope was hard to come by,
It became hard to see.
Buried underground in darkness,
Despair consuming me
I scratched and clawed
At these cement walls
Trying to break free
Never getting anywhere.
I fell to my knees
My face in my hands,
Tears streaming down my cheeks
I prayed to my God for wisdom to see
Death came knocking on my door
Not once, not twice, but three-
Last meals three, last goodbyes three
Still I believe.
Then suddenly a blinding light
Grabs a hold of me
Shining down the tunnel for me to see
That there is finally hope that one day
I am going to be free
But will it be free the way I want it to be?
Or will I be with the heavenly?
I rode as I fast as I can
That light guiding me
Knowing it’s the only way
I will ever see what’s at the end for me
All my hopes, all my dreams
Choosing life, choosing to be free
Praying that’s my destiny.

📬

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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