Addendum: I initially only published a part of this poem. So sorry about that. I was in the midst of my sporadic posting at the time. Here is the whole poem.

My name is James Shields. I was born in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, November 7, 1945, came to Massachusetts at the age of twelve. I settled in the Roxbury section with my mother, three sisters, and three brothers. I attended various schools in Roxbury.

I left school to acquire a job to support myself because my mother was unable to get things I desired, so I became a dropout. But soon I learned that I would need more than ambition and strong desire to work. I was in desperate need of more education in order to live a life of comfort as well as pleasure.

I became interested in writing because I saw a field through which I could present my ideas so that those who may be at the point that I was when I made the wrong decision in my life-style may become conscious through my written thoughts.

I believe the thoughts of the “new-breed writers” will increase the positive productivity of our public, moving them progressively forward. I say: We all as people have something to say. Let’s open the ears of our minds, because the liberation of our souls comes from knowledge we intake through the ears of our minds…On!

Time Was Spent
By James Shields

Time was spent wondering what the outcome of the trial would be,
and if in this court of the humane society,
can there be justice for me?

Time was spent in a cell with rats and roaches, with cracks in the wall.
In my face at night, the loose paint from the ceiling,
in my face it would fall.

Time was spent talking to brothers who had been kidnapped from society
to pay an unjustified penalty;
brothers who had fought hard in the war –
not for capitalistic gain,
but for what they believed to be their country.

Time was spent writing letters to people across the country
to aid me in this bid for freedom from this iron hell.
But aid came to me not, turning my mind into a piece of steel,
my blood into lead, my heart hollow with hate deeper
than a well.

Time was spent watching my brothers chained together,
sometimes ten in a straight line,
with looks of depression on their faces…
and hopelessness took over their minds.

Time was spent witnessing the funky judge’s giving out
to my brothers ridiculous time,
and watching them pimping lawyers
crossing them out of every dime.

Time was spent cursing loud, cursing hot, cursing strong and cursing heavy,
my blood filled with hate.
I never knew that I was a part of an inhuman practice;
I regret my vision came late.

Time was spent watching black women being left menless,
black mothers being left sonless,
black children being left fatherless,
time after time after time.

Time was spent trying to keep my family together,
while being behind a wall;
but they too were prisoners —
we were only experiencing different faiths, that’s all.

Time was spent stressing the importance of unity to my black woman in this situation of involuntary exile,
hoping she would not choose before I had a chance to
orient her on how to accept my new life-style.

Time was spent with my body hard nights, and extending into the mornings,
paining with ungratified passions
then comes the sound of the keys turning in my brain,
where my freedom AWAITS.

Yes, time was spent.