This is a poem from October/2016 from when Eric was just two months into his time at FCI Englewood, the start of his journey into this BOP nightmare.
Am I allowed to breathe?
Is that a punishable offense
Am I allowed to feel
Is that a shot?
Are my thoughts read
like my letters
Scanned and stored
to be used against me later
My dreams disected and distorted
Tearing apart the meanings
Digging for something
anything
Does my every firing neuron
Have sinister intentions
Yes..