Someone’s banging



We are grateful to our colleagues at Inside Time for allowing us to reproduce these poems. Inside Time is the national newspaper for prisoners and detainees. Read more here

Someone’s banging on their door

Someone always wanting more

Someone screaming in my face

Someone staring into space


Alarm rings echo in my head

Maybe this time someone’s dead

Someone bleeding, someone hurt,

I have to always be alert


Someone laughing over there,

The smell of Spice hangs in the air,

Sickly sweet its cloying odour,

Code red, code blue, your life almost over


Listen to them on the yard

Trying to prove that they’re so hard

Little do their mates know

That they cried to me when they were low


Grown men that can’t read and write

These men denied a basic right

Is it really a surprise

The mess they made of their lives


But, some of these men and boys

Think that women are merely toys

Theirs to bend and break and hurt

Their hate too blind to see our worth


I’m used to abuse,

Call me a bitch and a slut,

Of course, later you want my number,

On road, you’ll hit me up


And yet I see your charm can work

But you don’t know how much corruption hurts,

Those who are left behind,

We see it all, don’t think we’re blind


And yet there’s laughter here too

Some will even start anew,

Though they are few and far between

Do not think they go unseen


Someone’s sad, it’s me, you see

To witness potential that will never be

To hear hate spewed from ignorant mouths

Refusing to listen, to show doubt


Someone’s angry, it’s me, you see

The audacity with which they talk to me

Prisoner and staff alike

My irritation’s running rife


Someone’s thankful, it’s me surprise!

It helped my confidence to thrive

But I don’t know if I can take

That much more of this toxic place


Someone’s banging on the door

I know what they are banging for

Anger and pain, fear and shame

When is society to blame

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