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Hosza Bagley

Hosza Bagley Jr.

Hosza is a local writer and friend...these are his own words:

My name is Hosza (Ho-Zay) Bagley Jr. and I was born in Petersburg, VA on September 27th, 1996. I began writing in a $0.99 composition book when I was five years old, anything from music, specifically hip-hop, poetry and short stories. Writing has always been a passion of mine because I have never been able to express how I feel using my voice, so I put it on paper. Writing truly became a central focus of my life when I entered my senior year of high school and met my two mentors, Mr. Raymond and Mr. Duncan. Mr. Raymond was my creative writing teacher and pushed my poetry and prose to new levels all while challenging me to be better. Mr. Duncan helped me master the art of the essay and story improving my skills in ways I never knew possible. I also spent short time at Virginia State University focusing in English as my major. Right now, I’m focused on being a good father, partner, and writer.


O' Brother Where Art Thou

My brother told me the other day 

You're going to kill yourself

He said this because I drowned two painkillers with whiskey

Letting it whisk me away to a magical place

Where I no longer have to feel pain.

I find peace in knowing I'm numb

Not feeling a thing has become so commonplace that feeling any other way is out of place, 

Like today I am the empty husk you see

But I seek the one thing that brings that feeling of complete 


You see, I suffer with a condition

A condition in which my predisposition is apathetic mention of how my life is ending and no one gets it

I can't reach out and beg for help

My mental health doesn't allow that


Instead it keeps me in my own hell

Beats me in my jail cell

Points out everything I've failed

Tells me "you'll never excel”…


I push and push and push until the I turn the mind to mush

And if I die


My brother was right.


There was a point in my life where I was heavily addicted to barbiturates because I didn’t know how to cope with my mental health issues. My best friend, now of twenty-two years, discovered my addiction and helped me beat it. When this poem was written I was at, what I feel, was the roughest period of the addiction. I am told that I overdosed once from the use of Percocet and that is when my “brother” found me and did everything he could to get me better.


Author: William Jones
Last modified: 7/2/2021 12:22 AM (EDT)