The (Powdered) Milky Way
Donate Here
•
Poetry
An ode to our last 750-gram powdered milk, taken from our treasured weekly Buy-Up Sheet.
The full cream milk I get today,
and in my cell it has to stay.
Of fault, not mine, I cannot get
to fridge afar, not now, not yet.
I have a drink, of fresh to taste
of fault, not mine, it goes to waste.
A day without brings me to thirst,
I think of powder, or not the worst.
To have of this, could be the choice,
upon the buy-up, to have the voice.
Oh, let at Woodford, bring it back,
The milk of powder, in the sack!
An ode to our last 750-gram powdered milk, taken from our treasured weekly Buy-Up Sheet.
The full cream milk I get today,
and in my cell it has to stay.
Of fault, not mine, I cannot get
to fridge afar, not now, not yet.
I have a drink, of fresh to taste
of fault, not mine, it goes to waste.
A day without brings me to thirst,
I think of powder, or not the worst.
To have of this, could be the choice,
upon the buy-up, to have the voice.
Oh, let at Woodford, bring it back,
The milk of powder, in the sack!
How to Make Bannoffee Pie in a Secure Unit
By Garth
A sweet treat using buy-up staples.
Creative
ISSUE NO. 20
•
1 MIN READ
I Am Tired
By Anthony
Tired from being told what to do. I am tired of love, tired of being deemed guilty, tired of my own remorse. I am tired of my own self-doubt, my own shadows and especially tired of my own face.
Creative
ISSUE NO. 20
•
I Hate You, Crystal Meth
By Mackenzie
Hate’s a strong word, but for you it’s reserved. I hate what you’ve taken from me, my parents, my childhood and my glee.
Creative
ISSUE NO. 20
•
1 MIN READ
Twelve Years Trying to Patch Up My Soul
By Abynei
My blue eyes look so drained, but I’m strong, I’ll make it through.
Creative