I found this plaintive and poetic piece of writing when going through David’s letters from prison. Let everyone remember that incarcerated people are still people and the differences between those on the inside and those on the outside are not as great as we would like to believe.
Over the years, I have hidden away my suffering. I smile when I feel like crying. I laugh when I feel like dying. I often stare at pictures of my nieces and nephews to see them grow up. I miss the simplest things of ordinary life, such as having dinner with my family, taking walks in the park. I miss dogs barking. I miss the feel of rain on my face. In a strange way, the feel of rain in prison is totally different from raindrops out there. I miss the sound of birds singing and women laughing. I miss winter and summer and spring and fall. I miss my freedom. So would anyone in my predicament. I will never forget the taste of freedom.