“Now in my death, no matter how much I pleaded and begged, I was considered a threat. So I am asking this for my kids… Why do you still look at the color of my skin as a weapon?” JLHenry returns with Part II, the ghost of a man forced to narrate his own injustice. His voice—posthumous but thunderous—calls out the systems, the silence, and the stories twisted after the trigger is pulled. “Where’s the empathy? Where’s your humanity?” This isn’t just poetry—it’s protest. It’s grief. It’s truth that won’t die quietly.

"These sacrifices that I'm making now Are so they can grow old. This is for my daughters—my babies— The two halves of my whole soul.” A father's love written in sacrifice, sealed with resilience. In Distant Father, JLHenry lays bare the pain of separation and the quiet strength behind every decision made in the shadows. This is not just a poem—it’s a promise. A confession. A legacy in words. For every man grinding in silence, for every daughter wondering if Daddy still cares—this one speaks volumes.

Excerpt from PART I by JLHenry “Do you see me? No, do you really see me? My very essence? My being? I am more than a Black man—I am a father, a son, a brother. Why even bother when all you see is a monster?” A routine stop. A conversation turned confrontation. Obedience met with violence. “I’m just trying to make it back to my family… in one piece.” As ribs shatter under bullets and breath slips away, the silence screams louder than sirens. JLHenry’s PART I is not just a poem—it’s a cry, a chronicle, a confrontation with systemic injustice. Feel the fear. Taste the tragedy. Witness the truth

Excerpt from "The Eyes of a Broken Man" by JLHenry “He walks a lonely path, as he battles himself. Pushed away everyone else. He doesn't want his pain to be felt by the people he loves the most. So he remains calm and controlled. Constantly retrospective of his soul. Dedicated to making those around him feel whole— Even though his heart has a hole.” These are the eyes of a broken man—not seeking pity, but understanding. Through poetry and prose, I expose what most conceal. Step into the storm, feel the silence, and maybe—find your own reflection in the depth.