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Poem: No Longer Oppressed

September 11, 2025 by AOUON Contributor Leave a Comment

by Louis R. Baca, Valley State Prison

Identify with my captors? NEVER. Stockholm syndrome ain’t that clever.

DNA strand, tougher than leather. Ancestral roots keeping me tethered.

Mentally abused, tarred and feathered. Physically used, scarred and weathered.

I rose above it, not completely severed. Elephant recall, that means forever.

PTSD, so you know my endeavor. Reparations for your granddaddy’s whatever. What holds me together? Faith in God, hope for the future, against all odds.

Against all frauds in this Land of Nod. Serving the most high, without the applause.

Teaching young men about the laws; that, shackle his mind and lock his jaws.

My generation don’t spare the rod; we expose the lies, we scraped and clawed.

Against all squads that try to rob; our culture and freedom, we are not flawed.

This is not my job, but I write from the pen, I strike with the pen,

I fight with the Jinn, just to bare my soul and smite the devil within.

They envy my skin and claim it’s a sin; study me in secret, upset when I win.

Scared of this sacred melanin; burned all our books, such insecure men.

Fake labels so doctors prescribe medicine; Prozac, Adderall, ZoloX, Ritalin.

Subduing the mind, so, let’s not pretend; modern day slavery, don’t fall for that again!!

But…who can contend with updated schemes? Social media approval? Smallpox on a screen.

Infecting the tribe by chasing a dream; paper idols with numbers painted many shades of green.

I woke up in prison while still just a teen; read a few books, started feeling supreme.

Connected some dots, but guess what I seen? Manifest destiny was NOT clandestine!

It’s in motion today, killing chiefs and kings; labeled as gang members, balancing life on a beam.

I questioned everything, not all’s as it seems; they’ll never come clean for raping our Queens!

This is my silent scream, and I do detest; the tactics of a government that openly expressed.

History’s on repeat, and we might be next; unless we educate and pick up the quest.

No fear of repercussion, no fear of death; no fear of being cancelled, no reason to stress.

I’m on the frontline, no longer oppressed; cause if we don’t engage, well, you know the rest…

Filed Under: Poetry Tagged With: CSJG, Louis R. Baca

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Our All of Us or None Newspaper serves to link those of us who have been locked up, those who are locked up, as well as our families and allies in this struggle.

We want to ensure that the voices of our people inside are heard and that inside artists are recognized for their contributions to this movement.

Your stories matter!

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Our All of Us or None Newspaper serves to link those of us who have been locked up, those who are locked up, as well as our families and allies in this struggle.

We want to ensure that the voices of our people inside are heard and that inside artists are recognized for their contributions to this movement.

Your stories matter!

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