The Forgotten Victim

The Forgotten Victim
©  Alison Henderson

‘That’s her there! her hubby’s inside!’
‘How can she stand by him?’ a neighbor cried!
‘I’d throw away the lock and key!’
‘That husband of hers should never be free!’

‘That woman can do so much better than him!’
‘I’d throw all his letters away in the bin!’
‘Just what can he offer now he’s locked away?’
‘A complete waste of space!’ she shouted that day.

‘That’s the one there! her boyfriend’s inside!
‘He’s scum of the earth!’ a neighbors implied!
‘If I was her, well I’d meet someone else!
‘Not wasting my life to be left on the shelf!

‘That woman’s been left to cope with the shame’
‘It was all over the papers! and gave out his name’
‘He’s useless! A criminal! Bring back the rope!’
‘He’ll do it again! for him there’s no hope!’

My comment:

That man you condemn has a child and a wife
A Mum and a Dad who has given him life!
What would you do if this happened to yours?
Deny all your love and close all the doors?

Do you honestly think I’d sink to a level
And just turn my back and deem him a devil?
Yes! He’s done wrong and is serving his time
And No! I do not agree with his crime.

‘That woman’ you point at, yes it is me
I was born with a name, as I’m human you see!
I’m innocent! just incase you’ve forgot
And love him whether you like it or not!

I’ve had the abuse, the comments and more
It’s nothing I haven’t heard all before
I mean no offense when I say this to you
I’m a victim as well- A forgotten one too.

Read more prison poetry here.

Too Young For Bars

As with many kids, my son (now age 17) got mixed up with a bad bunch. He was caught in possession of drugs, never squealed on the other kids so he was the only one punished and was sent to a Youth Camp for 9 months. He came home, mixed with them again and committed a more serious crime… with them. This time he has been sent to a prison for 3 3/4 years.

Too Young For Bars…
©  Ken Budden
Not a day goes by I don’t think of you Son,
Locked up like an animal and still so young.
It doesn’t seem right, it doesn’t seem fair.
The sentence they gave you by putting you there.

But the crime has been done…you rejected advice,
And young as you are, you must now pay the price.
It breaks my heart knowing what you now face,
And I pray your return from that forbidding place.

The root of the problem was the company you kept,
Being out of a night-time while the rest of us slept.
You were easy to talk to, you fell in their trap,
And they stayed at home while you took the rap.

You were given a chance, to a Youth camp you went,
I was hoping that that was a ‘lesson well spent’.
But when you came home, you met with them again,
Now look at the trouble you’ve got yourself in.

I remember your young days, teaching you right from wrong,
Telling you never be weak, and always be strong.
Your manners were perfect, they said so at school,
The girls all adored you and thought you were cool.

But it’s never too late, I know this time you’ve learned,
Like the proverbial ‘new leaf’, it is you who has turned.
A new life awaits you, there are people who care,
Who love you and need you and will always be there.

Love, Dad xxx

Read more prison poetry here.

Thinking About Mother

The author is trying to convey that within the walls of prison, there is plenty of time to think of how things could have been different.

Thinking About Mother
©  Terrie L. Sherman
Within these walls this prison
My mind and thoughts run free.
I think of mom and days gone by
And of what she meant to me.
I wonder how life would have been
Had she not gone away
And would I be behind these bars
If she were here today
How would my life be different?
I’ve asked a million times
If I could only talk to her
She might have stopped my crimes.
I’m thankful for the time we had
But she could not have known
Of the dark void left within my life
In the years since she’s been gone.
I needed her and miss her.
I love her for a fact
But I know my life is different
And I know I can’t turn back.

Read more prison poetry here.

The Beat Within

The Beat Within is a journal for and by incarcerated youth. The mission of the journal is to provide a creative outlet for young people within the prison system, and it features poetry, art and creative writing.

Here’s a poem from the latest issue:

I Forgive You

by Remy in Alameda

I forgive you

For not being there for me

I forgive you

For leaving me

I forgive you

For neglecting me

I forgive you

For keeping my brothers away from me

I forgive you

For hurting my mommy

I forgive you

For hurting me over and over again

I forgive you

For lying to me

I forgive you

For standing me up

I forgive you

For not being in my kid’s life

I forgive you

For leting someone else take your place

I forgive you

For not being my father

I forgive you

Read more of The Beat Within here.

Poetry from New Jersey State Prison

Journalist Kal Wagenheim, editor of Inside Out: Voices From New Jersey State Prison, talks on the radio about teaching writing in a maximum security prison, and why the state’s department of corrections doesn’t want the inmates to have his book.

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Read more about Wagenheim’s work here.

World Within a World by D.S. Bernard

World within a World

There’s a world that exists
that people hear of but don’t see of
It’s a world within a world
with no emotion-
then it can’t be broken

When you breathe in the air
some fall with despair
for they realize where they are
knowing now you’re in its grasp

With its own laws whether outdoors or indoors
it changes the way you think
it lets you dream if it lets you sleep
when you look out your window
you know there’s know-where to go
you just see walls that reach for your thoughts
through bars of iron that want you crying

But you don’t let it in
you close your mind and think of the time
when it opens its jaws if its hasn’t ignored
the time you’ve done -
you’re free to run.

D.S Barnard
Yatala Labour Prison
Northfield, SA 5085
AUSTRAL

Daddy’s Gone

Dedicated to families who have the emotional trauma of telling a child that their Daddy has been incarcerated.

Daddy’s Gone

©  Alison Henderson

How do you sit down and talk to your son

and tell him that his Daddy has gone

It’s easier explaining the meaning of death

and why people die and draw their last breath.

But Daddy, he’s gone to no peaceful heaven

Instead he’s in prison and serving a seven

so how do you sit down and tell your own son

the why’s and the reason’s his Daddy has gone?

” Listen my son, you’ll need to be strong

Daddy has done something terribly wrong

He’s gone in to prison for quite a long time

and this is what happens when you commit crime”

” Daddy still loves us, he’ll phone and he’ll write

ring you to wish you goodnight and sleep tight

we can sit down together and write him a letter

it’ll make Daddy smile and make him feel better”

” We can go and see Daddy perhaps once a week

to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek

you can draw Daddy pictures and paintings at school

to put on his wall which will look really cool ”

I tried telling my son with emotional tact

the truth of the matter, you can’t hide the fact

his Daddy has gone and has gone for a while

you can’t say it with flowers or manage a smile.

So how do you sit down and talk to your son

and answer his question’s why Daddy has gone

all you can do is just tell him your way…………

and pray to the lord he’ll be home soon one day.

Daddy’s Gone by Alison Henderson Prison Poems

The Ballad of Reading Gaol – Oscar Wilde

In 1895, Oscar Wilde was incarcerated in Reading, Berkshire for two years hard labor after being convicted of homosexual relationships, described as “gross indecency” with other men.

The witty, flamboyant playwright and author was released a broken, bankrupt and humiliated man. In 1897, he wrote the poem The Ballad of Reading Gaol (gaol is the British term for “jail”), a elegy written out of Wilde’s jail-time experience of the execution of Charles Wooldridge, a fellow prisoner and trooper in the Royal Horse Guards, a regiment of the Britsh Army.  Wooldridge killed his wife in a fit of jealousy.  The finished poem was published under the name c.3.3., which stood for cell block C, landing 3, cell 3.

Oscar Wilde’s epitaph is a quote from The Ballad of Reading Gaol:

And alien tears will fill for him
Pity’s long broken urn,
For his mourners will be outcast men,
And outcasts always mourn.

Below are other famous quotes from the poem:

Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword.

All that we know who lie in gaol
Is that the wall is strong;
And that each day is like a year,
A year whose days are long.


The vilest deeds like poison-weeds
Bloom well in prison-air:
It is only what is good in Man
That wastes and withers there:
Pale Anguish keeps the heavy gate
And the Warder is Despair

To read The Ballad of Reading Gaol in its entirety, click here.

David Letteman- Letters from Prisoners 01/17/2007

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In this video you will see actual letters written to David Letterman regarding his television show.  This is an attempt to be humorous about the idea of prisoners writing to a talk show host.  Do you think it is a good way to lighten the mood of a serious issue or an insult to incarcerated men/women around the country?  Take a look.

Prison Pete

Here’s another interesting blog about an interesting inmate.

Prison Pete has been bounced around prisons all over the country.  He currently resides in a New York Prison and has his trusty editor post his letters to the blog site.  Although he doesn’t have internet, his editor is pretty up to date with the site.  Pete also encourages people to write to him, pen pal style.

Here’s a sample:

Location, location, location. After spending almost three year of my incarceration moving around from one county jail to another, I spent over five years on top of a mountain in West Virginia at Club Fed. In the federal system the only thing you can have sent to you through the mail are books. That is it. Anything else you need or desire must be purchased through the commissary. And we are not talking about a wide selection of items, certainly no Wal-Mart or even a local bodega or 7-Eleven!

After completing my time at Club Fed, I was taken to spend another eleven to fifteen years in the glorious facilities of the New York State Department of Correctional Services.

One major difference between here and Club Fed is that you are allowed to receive packages. Now you might ask what this package thing means. Slide down into a comfortable chair and I will explain.”

Click to read on…

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