The Outcast

The Outcast

I’ve got one week left inside my safety bubble then I’m back on the street,

Police waiting at the first sign of trouble.

I hate being in here, yet I miss it when I leave,

Like a part of me dies and everyday I grieve.

The day I arrived here my life stood still,

They took my confidence, my identity and my will.

I was programmed into a robot of their making,

Asking permission for each and every step you’re taking.

Then one day they gave me 46 pound and opened the gate,

I stepped back into society, to which I could not relate.

 

The whole world was in a race that’s so so fast,

It’s a race in which I will always come last.

The gate shuts behind me, my life in black bin bags,

There’s no home nor hope for this old lag.

I’m lost and lonely in a world that’s left me behind,

So many thoughts and feelings racing through my mind.

Where do I go and what will I do,

I wish they would open the gate so I could walk back through.

 

I’m a convict, an offender, I’m branded for life,

Destined to struggle through trouble and strife.

Yes I’m guilty, I committed a crime,

But I’ve been punished, I’ve served my time.

Yet society still takes a very dim view,

People don’t see me, they stare right through.

This is my life now, condemned by my past,

Existing in the shadows, forever an outcast.

 

Andy Thornton

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