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About Time is the national newspaper for Australian prisons and detention facilities

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ISSUE NO. 22

May 2026

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Poetry

‘Love is Rebuilding My Life’

By

Phillip

Phillip writes from a prison in NSW.

There’s irony, hypocrisy, fallacy,

a vast ocean of distance to cross.

The “saint”, the “sinner”, it’s lunacy,

that the ignorant could save the lost.

They try, experiment, extrapolate theory

of behaviour and deterrents unending.

But too often it seems to conclusions dreary

they turn, and decide on confining.

Ignore commonsense! Disregard love and life!

Focus only on minutia of law!

Wash your hands, turn your back, and create more strife!

Slam your gavel and propagate flaw!

This does not solve, filling boxes with men,

out of sight, out of mind, out of thought.

The likely result? Anger festers and then

it flares up and out like you’ve taught.

“Why do they repeat?" “Why come back in at all?"

I’ll bet you don’t understand

that a spirit not healed but crushed by the fall

will come out more broken at hand.

There are some, of course, too flawed and broken

to allow contact far and wide.

But those guys are rare, a fraction, a token

of all those you’ve cast aside.

Many of us who you’ve locked up within

needed punishments mingled with grace,

not punitive efforts that multiply sin,

not a cell door slammed in our face.

Rather than seek out the maximum time

when a CCO is possible fore,

take in the context surrounding the crime

and make your judgements with care.

This time you missed it when taking your shot,

hurt victims more than me.

Instead of emotions making you hot,

think carefully next time, Bree.

As for me, I will rise, return from this hell

due to God, my family and wife.

In spite of the damage done in this cell

their love is rebuilding my life.

There’s irony, hypocrisy, fallacy,

a vast ocean of distance to cross.

The “saint”, the “sinner”, it’s lunacy,

that the ignorant could save the lost.

They try, experiment, extrapolate theory

of behaviour and deterrents unending.

But too often it seems to conclusions dreary

they turn, and decide on confining.

Ignore commonsense! Disregard love and life!

Focus only on minutia of law!

Wash your hands, turn your back, and create more strife!

Slam your gavel and propagate flaw!

This does not solve, filling boxes with men,

out of sight, out of mind, out of thought.

The likely result? Anger festers and then

it flares up and out like you’ve taught.

“Why do they repeat?" “Why come back in at all?"

I’ll bet you don’t understand

that a spirit not healed but crushed by the fall

will come out more broken at hand.

There are some, of course, too flawed and broken

to allow contact far and wide.

But those guys are rare, a fraction, a token

of all those you’ve cast aside.

Many of us who you’ve locked up within

needed punishments mingled with grace,

not punitive efforts that multiply sin,

not a cell door slammed in our face.

Rather than seek out the maximum time

when a CCO is possible fore,

take in the context surrounding the crime

and make your judgements with care.

This time you missed it when taking your shot,

hurt victims more than me.

Instead of emotions making you hot,

think carefully next time, Bree.

As for me, I will rise, return from this hell

due to God, my family and wife.

In spite of the damage done in this cell

their love is rebuilding my life.

This
piece
was originally printed in the
May 2026
edition of About Time.

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