Tears ran down my face knowing I was wrongfully convicted.
When will it end?
Tears of a man that has lost his mother,
Sisters and fiancé to prison years.
Tears of a man that lost his sense of love.
Tears of joy wash away
Replaced by tears of solitude
Knowing I’m innocent.
Tears of a man that misses his father,
Nephew
Son and best friend.
Tears of an innocent man
Praying I meet someone that may wipe away my tears.
My tears yearn to meet my future wife.
My tears, my tears if you’re out there,
Take a chance – write me a letter.
📬
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








