“Hate’s what got me into prison, love what’s gonna bust me out.” – Rubin Carter

My Name

Black and white do not mix
In a time like this
What should have been counted as self-defense
Turn around as prejudice
Prisons gates welcomed me when I was twelve
Thought of as nothing more then a trinket on a shelve
An escape is what I sought
I’m free, I thought
The Army I joined
Caught… with prison I rejoined
Anger consumed me entirely
My thoughts towards whites were opposite of compassionately
Making my body a weapon I trained
And after two years of being set free, what I had gained
Was the nickname
“The Hurricane”
And the title of world boxing champion
Still there was tension
There was a murder and I was framed
Innocent, that’s what my wife tried to proclaimed
The man that had imprisoned me once had done it again
But I’m still ‘The Hurricane’ just like I always have been
Kept locked up for over sixteen years
Finally someone has ears
A boy read my book and said that he knew I was not guilty
He gathered friends to fight against this cruelty
After the fourth appeal, and twenty years, innocent was what I was made
And “Hurricane” is still my name!