Prison Walls Poem by Mark (Owen) Williams

Well I’m sitting in a prison thinking of the way things used to be.
Yes I’m sitting in a prison doing 10 long years for armed-robbery.
It’s hard sometimes to think when you hear the screams of inmates in the night,
Being beaten by some prison guard or by a fellow inmate in a fight.

The pecking order, the sleeping order, the whole damn thing is like one great big zoo,
As the strong preys on the weakest – for sex and other favours – what’s to do?
But me I think about the life outside, about my family and friends,
I think about my child and then I cry a little – Lord, it never ends.

So I keep myself busy now with books and chores and days out in the yard,
I struggle with this prison life, my mental hell in here, it’s all too hard.
But one day when I’m out of here I’ll have the skills to stop me coming back,
I hope my child still knows my name and have the strength to keep me from the slack.

But for now that is so far away as I drift back to this God-forsaken cell,
They say the Lord hears those who pray but inside here you know the Devil dwells.
So, I’m sitting in a prison thinking of the way things used to be,
Yes I’m sitting in a prison stretching 10 long years for armed robbery…