It was all a dream—
sitting in the first row
watching the reactions
all the colors that are interwoven
celebrate this opportunity to be here
there is a lot of weird stuff out there
there's gonna be chaos
look at the blue skies
to have the sunshine beaming on us
we'll see what brother is going to take it all the way
do anything to make the dream come true
I teach a class at San Francisco's maximum security men's jail, and this poem is composed of one line from each student's most recent assignment.