The Black Dog
 Home Boy! The Soap Box | The Library | The Links | The Cave 



Stunted Development

Steel bars, clean sheets

rescue from life on the streets

3 hots and a cot, I bemoan my lot

a waiting game, myself to blame

Head hung in shame, down in flames

Toilet paper cigarettes, time ot ponder my regrets

doctor doctor am I sick

why am I thick as a brick?

Needle spoon to numb my pain

I wait for sunshine in the rain

farting silent in my bed

memory music in my head.

Pulled muscle, bed squeaking

tiptoe midnight toilet sneaking

Group therapy primal screaming

broken heart a soul that's leaking

essays written, letters sent

time so quickly came and went

counting days, self appraise

realize crime no longer pays

selfish sin, foolish grin

discovering the 'State' I'm in

must start all over from the start

to mind this poet's broken heart

I'll shout out loud

'I need my pain'

'I forgive myself'

'I'm not insane'

And if no one hears me that's ok

I'll rewind the tape, and let it play

I'm a grown up now! Don't ask me how

It happened suddenly - from then..til now

Got places to go and people to see

and any day now they'll 'let me free'

you will be too - just a matter of time.

You'll get yours, like I got mine

give yourself a chance

to live your dreams

things aren't as bad

as they sometimes seem


Thanks for giving me a listen -

this poet who writes from inside a prison

In prison, you have a lot of time to think...Bob Gurtler, an inmate of Riker's Island Prison in New York, who works on

watch, sends us his thoughts...



Bobby transferred to a rehabilitation centre after this and was due for release shortly

Check out Bob's other columns

Click here to return to the black dog home page, or click on the dog at the top of the page