Death Watch Speaks

Greetings to All,

There are no words that can describe what it is to be on Death Row!

In my 11 years I still have not been able to find the words. Even though I live in a cage that has tried to break my spirit and castrate my maleness, still I have struggled and overcome many battles in which I didn't think I could.

My time here has never been anything, but understanding what it is that was meant for myself.

Now I am at that place in which I have so long fought to not be and this place is DEATH WATCH.

To know me in who I am now, you must understand my first impression of the so-called system.

I am not here to rant on about how unfair it is, even if I may not agree with some things, I do with others, but what I am going to share with you is how I felt.

What it was to my young mind at the time of my incarceration for the first time. At the age of 34 years, I now look back on some of my first years and saw how anger was my only friend in which we help each other. It was its comfort that made me get close to it and I was its outlet into our world. But as time passed I grew and that growth helped me become who I am today.

I still have anger, but it is not the same. Where it controlled me so many years ago, today I am its master.

I am about to embark on some memories of how I felt so many years ago. I do hope that this gives you some insight of what it is like to be in my shoes.

Always Respect and Peace

Malik Ali Shakoor

(Robert Thompson) # 999276

Death Row,Texas

"RAPED"

by Malik Ali Shakoor

Any Violent or Outrageous Assault

I laid there just numb in my thoughts, not being able to say anything that would stop what  was being done to me. I felt unclean, dirty... I've never been violated before.I wanted to cry but it seemed that the pain and anger inside wouldn't allow these tears to fall.

I watched, just laid there as all five took turns in stripping me of my manhood, my integrity and my liberties of being human. I was drawn in by my immaturity...Their smooootthh talk entranced me as they began to take me slow. These two molesters of my freedom.

I believed that they would defend my honor. "Ohhhhh" - how I was so wrong... to think that they would look deeper into my words. My logic of understanding. These two people were like me, that's right, they were African-American. I thought they cared. They told me, they knew what it was like to feel as I did, their thoughts were just as mines. I just ate their words. What reason would I have to believe that they were lying. They were not wolves, because even wolves have honor among their pack. These two were pawns that were willing to place their own kind on an altar to sacrifice to this God.

I tried to call out, but my voice wouldn't come. So I just laid there bleeding as my virginity of freedom was being taken. But this God wanted more, this God required my life. So, these defenders of my life took me and I just laid there. I laid there not knowing what else to do, just as so many others who have been laid on the same bed, bunk, floor and ground.

They took me fast once they gotten the okay from this God. These two have many faces but I will never forget the faces that took me. The other two I could see them...because they used no deception, they just came in and beat me with everything and anything. They didn't care if they were committing an unjust act. They handled my innocence rough and abusive. I lay in my own blood as it poured out of my freedom youth and years. They took all I had left. They penetrated me with skills they have mastered for years. My ambition and goals was gone now. They did it and the cost had no limits to them.

The last of my violators was the worst of them all, because he had the power to stop the act of rape. He could have raised his hand and his voice and the world would have stop, but he was this God's prophet. He was the law barer and up holder. Yet all he did was just looked down at me. I wish that he would have assaulted me as the others did, so I could have been angry, but the pain wouldn't let me hate him only pitted him. He was the rapist of justice herself. His fate would be greater than mines could ever be. He would have to live with the knowledge of witnessing a rape of the innocent. There is no shelters or 1-800 number that you can call. Only those who have been raped know. "Now you do?"