My Barbed Wire Syndrome
Willy Pleasance
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Poetry
They expect us to play ball
But always move the goalposts
They expect us to hold boundaries
The same they overstep
They want us to abide
But break their own rules
They want us to be responsible
Three hots and a cot, how can we be?
They expect us to be kind
In a place it can be exploited
They don’t want us to be violent
In a place violence can be a commodity
They want us to show love
But there’s no love here
They want us to soften our ways
In a place hardened men thrive
They expect us to be truthful
But fill us to the brim with lies
They take so much
But give so little
They wanted me to conform
All they formed was a con.
Date Published
December 12, 2025
By About Time
Clearly you only have to nominate ‘time travel’ as the subject of a writing competition to get people thinking.
ISSUE NO. 27
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2 MIN READ
By Marley
Time, for me, was at first just “the clock on the wall” at high school. When is lunch? When will this test finish? And when is home time?
ISSUE NO. 27
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1 MIN READ
By Jaivien
Have you ever found yourself at the bottom of a well?
ISSUE NO. 27
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2 MIN READ
By Rain
The decay of an atom indicates that time itself has passed, it is the origin of our concept of time.
ISSUE NO. 27
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3 MIN READ