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
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