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

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ISSUE NO. 6

December 2024

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Poetry

Treasures Lost

By

Joey

Joey writes from Metropolitan Remand Centre in Victoria.

Adrian Dale for Unsplash

The night is deep. The silence, empty.

And I yearn to hear the voice of God.

At times I weep, for death seems tempting,

A soul burnt out. A broken bod.  

Feelings once felt, and lives well lived,

Viewed now through looking-glass;

Like Orion’s Belt, and the light it gived

I glimpse a long lost past…

When with blazing majesty, and cosmic wonder,

She streaked across my sky;

To ignite a tapestry, of love and thunder,

So brave, we were – not shy!

And our passions birthed, a wonder-girl,

Like an angel sent from heaven;

Warm sunshine ‘earthed’ – a perfect pearl,

Alas both, from me, now driven.

Where once I held, a life so charmed,

So clean. So pure. Not odd!

In a lonely cell, my soul lays darned,

As I yearn for the voice of God…

The night is deep. The silence, empty.

And I yearn to hear the voice of God.

At times I weep, for death seems tempting,

A soul burnt out. A broken bod.  

Feelings once felt, and lives well lived,

Viewed now through looking-glass;

Like Orion’s Belt, and the light it gived

I glimpse a long lost past…

When with blazing majesty, and cosmic wonder,

She streaked across my sky;

To ignite a tapestry, of love and thunder,

So brave, we were – not shy!

And our passions birthed, a wonder-girl,

Like an angel sent from heaven;

Warm sunshine ‘earthed’ – a perfect pearl,

Alas both, from me, now driven.

Where once I held, a life so charmed,

So clean. So pure. Not odd!

In a lonely cell, my soul lays darned,

As I yearn for the voice of God…

‘Love is Rebuilding My Life’

By Phillip

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.

Creative

ISSUE NO. 22

2 MIN READ

Methfairytale

By Karie

I’m not belle of the ball, not the very least, but we have something in common, I’m in love with a beast. But the beast is not a person but a drug that I call meth, I’ve been talking to myself for hours, I’m running out of breath.

Creative

ISSUE NO. 22

1 MIN READ

Nostalgia

By Dennis

Nostalgia is a gentle haze, a soft and fading, golden maze, where time itself begins to blur, and memory’s touch is sweet and pure.

Creative

ISSUE NO. 22

1 MIN READ

Art From Inside

By Lanie

Our team was blown away by this beautiful painting.

Creative

ISSUE NO. 21

1 MIN READ