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July 8, 2002 was a night that I will never
forget. I was lying on the bunk in this jail cell listening to the
radio. A favorite song of mine comes on. I’ve heard it many times and
never have I cried like this before.
“It was nothing like that crying
when I accidentally got hurt.
It was nothing like that crying
when I was being punished
by my parents at a younger age.
It was nothing like that crying
when I didn’t get the toy
that I asked my parents for.
It was nothing like that crying
when I was drunk or
lost a family member “died”
or a wife, a girl friend done left.
It was nothing like that crying
when just tears
are going down my face.”
In this jail cell lying on the bunk,
listening to the words of the song my whole
past and present have flashed in front of me. I felt the tears coming,
filled up my eyes and ran down my face. I’m looking at my past and know
that I could have done things a little different. I feel for the
victims. For the first time I cried. Cried for everything that I’ve done
wrong. Cried for anyone that I’ve caused any pain to. I cried for the
past for being the past and can’t be changed.
In this jail cell lying on the bunk and I
still could hear the words of the song, crying, thinking of my children:
Jhon – Frantz – Courtney – Antoine – Karl. Thinking of my wife, Kimberly
and my son Supreme.
I tried my best not to be loud. I closed my
mouth. I couldn’t keep it closed for long. I held my head with both
hands, one on each side of my head crying. I couldn’t stop the crying
even though I’ve tried hard. I cried like never before. The song was
over. I could feel the wet sheet from where my head was resting. I got
up and walked to the sink. As I was washing my face, still playing in
my head some words from the song, “I will give my life to spend another
night with you.”
So, Kimberly, I will give you my life and
maybe I will get to spend another night with you.
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