I’m sick of blessed

Sick of saying I’m blessed

Cos I got six years

Cos it’s an easy jail

Cos I’ve got a supportive family

Cos I’ve got supportive mates

Cos I’ve got a kitchen job

Enough money for smokes

Deodorant and shampoo

I’m sick of blessed

Cos I got recommended for parole

Cos I only had one fight

Cos I have my own cell

In a quiet cottage

Blessed would be:

Never having been in a situation

Where it was necessary

To break the law

Never putting my family through hell

Not seeing my mother behind glass

Blessed would be

Not spending a small fortune

On a top lawyer

Not losing six years of my life

To these walls

And any kind of life

Different to this one

I’m sick of blessed

I often say I’m either the luckiest unlucky person or the unluckiest lucky person. It is truly a miracle that I’m still alive after all I’ve been through but a great tragedy that I went through the trials of my wild existence at all. Call it a fluke or a liberal dose of common sense but my time was probably easier than many and I’m fully conscious of the position of privilege that allowed me to pay for decent lawyers. Life happens to people..

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