Morning chapel
padre preaching
all new to me
came here for a natter
see what’s there to see
every hell has its angels
he don’t know ‘bout angels
how they fight
thrills of a motor bike
chariots o’fire
if he say he do, s’not true,
he aint read the manual
don’t know what a spanner’s for
he just know we threw it in
an’ it don’t work
I’d run out o’ booze
drunk as a lord
awake till morn
got no comfort
I ain’t weak
disinherited me
had nothin’ to give
always empty
it ain’t right
raised hungry an’ thirsty
plenty o’ scrapes
showed no mercy
weak for a tart
love n’ leave
that ain’t odd
yeah, was picked on
fight for me rights
they be-me-attitudes
an’ I’ll not change
bless ‘em they try
‘n they try
I’ll never change
if heaven is gained
through suffrin’
I’m in
man-ah never found
streets paved with bread
much less with gold
I looked for trouble
‘n found it
there ain’t no justice
tain’t no miracle
that’s why I’m here
tain’t no miracle
Searches are common.
God knows what they’re looking for!
Mary-Anna? (we are unisex)
£-s-d? (sorry, we’re all broke)
A sharp wit? (every one here has arrested development)
What do they search for so intimately?
They searched me today.
All they found
was this poem.
I regret now having once thought
That each new morning fresh hope brought,
And keys were meant to open doors,
Bars on windows protect what's yours,
Steep walls were meant for privacy.
Now I see how wrong one can be!
As I await for my release,
I pray to God for inner peace.
(Honorable mention in Line Gauthier's Bite Size No 147 Contest)
The impact of a racist riot on a community is often exacerbated by recidivism—not just in terms of individual re-offending, but in the repetition of systemic violence and the cycle of trauma it inflicts on the masses. When these events occur, they are rarely isolated incidents; they are often the result of recurring patterns of unchecked prejudice and failed intervention.
For the public, this cycle creates a sense of perpetual instability. When the same ideologies and actors resurface to incite violence, it undermines social cohesion and signals that previous lessons were not learned. Breaking this cycle of recidivism requires more than just short-term consequences; it demands a collective commitment to addressing the root causes of racial animosity to ensure these destructive patterns do not repeat.
HOPE
HOPE
thin light
gracile flame
27 years in stone
cold air danced on the floor
he smiled through broken prison glass
"hope survives even in the smallest cell"
these four walls
keep the outside world in,
but in here
my restless mind becomes calm.
though confined
by iron bars,
i feel no fear, and although
i'm without choices,
i end up with complete freedom.
as there's nothing to chase
i cease running;
since there's no way ahead,
looking deep
inside myself.
the noise of freedom
turned out to be
a heavier burden,
for it meant
a thousand open doors
which confined only me.
in the stillness
of the four corners,
the voice of silence
d e a f e n i n g.
all options exhausted,
i’m forced to finally
a r r i v e.
my hands are bare,
yet they hold everything.
my feet planted to the ground,
yet walking far.
shadows brood over me,
yet I see the sun clearly.
in this confined space,
i am...
infinite.
The washed up of shores of the apple cores,
Magnetized child to her waist and cradle,
Teenage years amplify their fears,
he'll be washed up in a couple of years.
Eyes of angst, piled up beach banks,
Gators in the shallow & fear of gallows,
Pressing on the neck in a dream of sea-wrecks,
Popping of balloons near sinking Saloons.
Remember the day in which we'll run & play
Ignoring the truth of everything they'll say,
Hopping along to every child-hood song
& ignorance to a hot furnace's wrongs.
The floor being turning points of doors,
wood that follows ends up rotten hollow
The knife in the chest that proves so fatal,
the blowing of a child's delightful petals.
On our way to a prison out of state
ConAir, the final phase
I was betrayed and now I've been caught
The Kangaroo Court a massive fraud
I can't remember, am I insane?
My mind is blank cause they emptied my brain
I will return, I will be back
I will get my revenge and I will attack
I don't care much about plans and schemes
Don't give a damn about any righteous dreams
All that I do, I do for myself
I never cared for anyone else
Who on earth do you think that you are
Without me you wouldn't have gotten this far
I've had enough of our private war
Why are we fighting, what is it all for?
To right the wrongs and fight the good fight
Living like you just wouldn't be right
I am a leader, I have the skills
Either you leave or you yield to my will
Our strong bond couldn't keep us apart
I always trusted you right from the start
You've been deceived, they're telling you lies
I'm still the same, I'm on your side
I can't believe you gave yourself away
Although it hurts, I will make you pay
Don't understand, can't figure out why
All I know is you have to die!
In a prison cell that fairly reeked
I heard the song my soul never seeked,
an eternal, sorrowful lament
encircled by rats, steel and cement.
Freedom or hope could never emerge,
just a woeful, wailing dirge.
Once, you held the golden key,
but said your love was not for me,
condemning me to this lonely cell,
a strangely cold and desolate hell.
Now that I've lived my last sad day,
my heart and soul, wasted away.
Dear lady, I leave you just this scrawl
written on a prison wall.
Andrew Tate and his other brother got humbled today
Finding out about this brought so much joy to my day
May the government arresting them make them both pay
Women everywhere are sick of the things they always say
The jewelry box
I kept for safe keeping
Has become the land
My flesh keeps reaping
The store around the corner
I travel each morning
Makes my breath of life
A lot less boring
There sits my buddies
Around a table of carded hands
Money is just wadded paper
With the pull that understands
My darling pushes my buttons
Even when she knows what's comin'
The shame and guilt gives presents
Buying time to keep her guessin'
There's a pleasure in little things
But the secrets must not speak
Lest the bedroom of energy
Makes the boards start to creak
Snacks in the morning
At noon, and after dinner time
Who cares about a body
When habits tickle my mind
...to stagnation
Written by Trudy Schrader on 06-23-2026
I once thought
each new morning fresh hope brought,
keys were meant to open doors,
bars on windows to protect what’s yours
and that walls were meant for privacy.
How wrong can one be!
The midnight bell chimed through
the empty halls.
Dust settled softly over trophies
on the walls.
Lockers slammed shut with a
metallic, sudden boom.
As freezing air flooded inside the
history room.
Footsteps echoed sharply down
the dim West Wing.
Through no one was there to hear
the sirens sing.
A phantom chalkboard wrote a
single name in red.
The roster of the students who
were long since dead.
I hid beneath the desk, my
breathing sharp and fast.
Trapped inside a prison built of a
horrific past.
The heavy smell of smoke began
to choke the air.
As phantom fire crackled wildly
down the stairs.
Then shadows stretched out from
the dark gymnasium floor.
And skeletal hands began to rattle
every door.
The guidance counselor's door
swung slowly, widely wide.
Revealing teeth and glowing eyes
that waited deep inside.
The hallway lengthened out into a
endless maze.
As glowing red eyes locked into my
terrified gaze.
I'm bewildered by what I see yonder,
Now hold yer horses, let's cease to wander.
We're fixin to meet yer coffee boiler.
He's the new one who's not a straight shooter. Whoah!
I reckon he's got an excuse for it.
And he will tell me why he didn't quit.
I'm stumped why he bamboozled you last night.
I thought I'd be cashed in for that big fight.
But I thought we should cowboy up!
You know I'm gonna call that wrangler's bluff.
We'll not run from trouble and skedaddle.
A strong man must sit firm on his saddle.
Grab a bandana, and fetch a canteen.
Nobody's guessed where this trail's gonna lead.
I once road down a lonely darkened road.
The burdens that I carried formed a load.
But I stood determined to cowboy up.
To set my trail straight and clean myself up!
That waddler will learn to ride for the brand.
By my wise warnin' and wisdom's command!
Those punchers all hat, surely no cattle,
Soon learn wild broncos make 'em chew gravel.
Cowgirls too!
These days, cowboys must learn to communicate!
And get the best result negotiatin'
Big change is ridin' hard across the range! Whoah!
prison bird dressed in orange
in a cage, in a cage
you cannot fly, you cannot soar
the space is small, you feel so tight
in a tiny place, you do not feel right
the door is locked, you have no key
prison bird in solitaire
your life is stifled
one bad decision ruined your life
how many hours a day do you spend
sleeping away
wishing this sentence would end?
one bad decision ruined your life
one bad decision, brings you daily strife
fly away prison bird, enjoy your dreams
Prison Categories
Definition | What is Prison in Poetry?
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.
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penitentiary, lockup, confinement, jail, dungeon, cooler, keep, pen, can, stockade, reformatory, clink, penal institution, slammer, g, guardhouse, bastille, statesville, up the river,