This section publishes creative contributions mostly from currently and formerly incarcerated people. It includes short-stories, poetry, creative nonfiction, art, and much more.
If you have something creative to submit to us, we would love to read it, or see it, and publish it in About Time – please write to us!
Do not cry by the window, gazing out to the sky. For I’ve not only left you, I’ll never say goodbye.
Window Pane is a reflection of childhood memories, looking outside of my bedroom, locked away.
Behold my friend, I am heroin, known by all as the destroyer of men. From where I came no one knows, a far away place where the poppies grow.
It’s been almost 10 years now, since my life has changed. For better or worse, nothing will ever be the same.
I fall, twisting and spinning in duress, a darkness complete, vast and eternal. An emptiness felt, thick as molasses, noises and sounds rend my mind infernal.
Do not cry by the window, gazing out to the sky. For I’ve not only left you, I’ll never say goodbye.
Window Pane is a reflection of childhood memories, looking outside of my bedroom, locked away.
Nowhere to go, as the new day is here? Holding on as the last threads, of my dreams disappear.
Givin’ my mum a hug, even for just a second. That’s worth a lot, worth the world I reckon.
‘Tis just another day behind the wall, with musters here and musters there, it surely wearies, one and all.
Life’s not a party my dearest darling, for we partied, now must you party alone.
Regardless of how we are feeling, days still start and end. Regardless of what I do, what others do, what happens to me or what happens to them.
On an icy day, we’ll meet again, on a silent path, free from pain. No greetings spoken, no sparks to fly, just a quiet knowing in each other’s eye.
Why should you suffer for my pain. Knowledge in this I should try to gain. Does it feel I have left you alone? It may feel I have cut you to the bone.
The calls we hear every day, whether guilty or claiming you’re innocent, there’s a price we each must pay. “It’s a privilege not a right” you’ll hear the screws say, but the moment you’re behind those bars, your control is taken away.
A poem for the one true love of my life, I wish I could change the past, but I can only change my future.
She saw his will and was convinced, she listened to his lies and was convinced, she looked into his eyes and trusted his smiles, she was convinced.
I yearn to spend loving time with my Mother, to reunite with my sister and brother, to introduce my kin to the new man I am.
I hear the sirens wailing, I know the cops are coming, to my door, I let down my family, even my kids, friends and all.
Life is only short my son, with so many paths to take, life is an uphill struggle, with every step you make. That’s why you must treasure life, with every second of the day, because you may never know, when it’s your turn to go away.
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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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