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