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Dear About Time
Your newspaper is fantastic and is extremely valuable, sharing experiences and knowledge between prisons in all states of Australia as well as the world, helping all gain insight into practices and procedures as well as outlining certain discrepancies. It is wonderful to see such a vast array of people writing in to share their views, feelings and sharing their lived experiences within the system. Thank you to all those involved and keep up the great work!
With this letter, I’ve included some of my poetry and a short story I’ve completed in prison. Writing and creating artwork has really helped me express my emotion and document my experiences here over the time I have served.
"About Time" is my favourite piece and it was created after reading your first issue some months back.
It's about time, I outline,
the walls we're within.
No doubts fly, no routes fine,
the way I'm living.
I shout, whine, but still I'm
stuck in prison.
Mistakes, lies, of all kinds
that aren't forgiven.
I did lines, my shout guys,
insight went missing.
My fam cries, I got time, charges arisen.
No goodbyes, no wise guys,
at large just wishing.
Chose mob ties, not outcries,
I've been losing my vision.
The cops bite, one more time,
they're ankle nipping.
I got high, now gotta find,
my own remission.
Not guilty, we all cry, there's
no admissions.
Prosecution, all sigh, got 'em
power tripping.
They see nothing we do's right,
that's the stigmatism.
All criminals, all fight, try to
sit and listen.
It's about time to outline, the
truth you're gripping.
I'm trying to shed light on
your firm position.
'Cause we are drowning in blood,
from the law's incisions.
Not all of us are all bad, your
pocket's been pissin’.
Generational trauma, got
some pathways missing.
Some of us, just made some
bad decisions.
Others were in raids, that
our peers positioned.
Of all the charges laid, a lot
of facts went missing.
At the back of the courtroom,
hear the snakes all hissing.
A few are innocent black slaves,
to some cruel traditions.
I'm not gonna lie, some are
plain Kool-Aid sipping.
But the generations born
with stigmas are slipping.
So it's about time, we outline, corruption's given.
To all of mankind, it's time
the subject's risen.
Before more sons and daughters
die in this system.
Or another rise, in rates of recidivism.
I just hope you'll listen, to these words, from RISDON.
It's about time, I outline,
the walls we're within.
No doubts fly, no routes fine,
the way I'm living.
I shout, whine, but still I'm
stuck in prison.
Mistakes, lies, of all kinds
that aren't forgiven.
I did lines, my shout guys,
insight went missing.
My fam cries, I got time, charges arisen.
No goodbyes, no wise guys,
at large just wishing.
Chose mob ties, not outcries,
I've been losing my vision.
The cops bite, one more time,
they're ankle nipping.
I got high, now gotta find,
my own remission.
Not guilty, we all cry, there's
no admissions.
Prosecution, all sigh, got 'em
power tripping.
They see nothing we do's right,
that's the stigmatism.
All criminals, all fight, try to
sit and listen.
It's about time to outline, the
truth you're gripping.
I'm trying to shed light on
your firm position.
'Cause we are drowning in blood,
from the law's incisions.
Not all of us are all bad, your
pocket's been pissin’.
Generational trauma, got
some pathways missing.
Some of us, just made some
bad decisions.
Others were in raids, that
our peers positioned.
Of all the charges laid, a lot
of facts went missing.
At the back of the courtroom,
hear the snakes all hissing.
A few are innocent black slaves,
to some cruel traditions.
I'm not gonna lie, some are
plain Kool-Aid sipping.
But the generations born
with stigmas are slipping.
So it's about time, we outline, corruption's given.
To all of mankind, it's time
the subject's risen.
Before more sons and daughters
die in this system.
Or another rise, in rates of recidivism.
I just hope you'll listen, to these words, from RISDON.
This image depicts the wild woman and the apple tree. It is inspired by the character 'Aofie' in this year's production.
Some say Love is overrated. It has no relevance anymore I say. I know more than love unbound, I can make these prayerful sounds.
What filled my days before, I do not know. I have so much love within me, from inside my heart I glow.
Help us get About Time off the ground. All donations are tax deductible and will be vital in providing an essential resource for people in prison and their loved ones.
Help us get About Time off the ground. All donations are tax deductible and will be vital in providing an essential resource for people in prison and their loved ones.
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