Dan’s Drawing
A drawing of Stitch from Lilo and Stitch, sent to us by Dan.
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!

A drawing of Stitch from Lilo and Stitch, sent to us by Dan.
Often I try to self-reflect which turns into waves of rings around me. This picture reflects my days in general; life is static, surrounded by waves around.
The cage stands bold, with its steel-clad mesh. For within its grip, it’s us it holds. Ten foot walls, of cold creme concrete. For outside we muster, like horses in stalls.
I know you think you’re broken far too much to ever heal properly, like all those other folk that make life seem so real.
“The colours of the rainbow so pretty in the sky." The colours of my jocks lying, on a bench. Uncovered by shutters. Unarmed waiting snakes.
You begin to scream and shout. Roll about time to let it all out. Emotions running wild from the hurt and pain. It’s starting to hurt my brain.
Do you feel confined, please sympathise my pain. The lack of understanding, I find it very vain. Just imagine freedom, independence stripped from you, how would you feel and what would you do.
Another day another cell, can’t believe I’m locked in a cell. Imagine this is what it’s like living in hell, lawyers to pay but no money and nothing to sell!

When the light returns and the long night fades, and dawn slips soft through shadowed shades, you feel the hush before the day – a whisper of grace that finds its way.

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.

Christmas day without my family, was such a terrible burden to bare, no Christmas tree, decorations, no presents, no laughter, no joy, no Christmas fare.

Every feeling they felt, the other feels too, trust is a must and communication too. Together as one, soulmates we are destined, forever to each other we are.

After all his team had been through to get here, physically and mentally, the farm boys were disrespecting them big time. “Only one way to shut their gobs,” he thought with venom.

The poem was written in the early weeks of being on remand, expressing my raw emotions while coming to terms with it all.

Here I sit inside my cell, thinking to myself, is this Hell? Cold and dark, with a terrible smell. I think it is, only time will tell.

A poem for the one true love of my life. I wish I could change the past, but I can only change my future.

I remember the day I saw you, I held your tiny form, the chilly air made you tremble, so we took you home.

The pressure of the pain inside, formed diamonds in my mind, tempting me to throw it in, to leave it all behind.


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