Among convicts I feel like a hipster

Among hipsters I feel like a convict

And man do I feel tough

With ordinary folks

Not just cos I’m buff

Tell the grittiest jokes

Because they say I present well

For the job that they found me

Cos I been through hell

And realty grounds me

Six years of hard time

Now excursions to home

Feeling sublime

For the light I’ve been shown

My girl wants me to leave with her

I tell her not long

Somehow she believes in me

Singing her sweet song

All my ducks in a row

Not long to go

The end of this pain

While the others remain

Trapped on the inside

Themselves to blame

12 Days til I know

The very best show

Of the world my oyster

Forever to eternity

Near the end of my incarceration I was lucky enough to be transferred to the Transitional Release Cottage. That meant I could spend increasing amounts of time on leave to home or the mall or anywhere that the staff approved. I also managed to meet a girl who started visiting regularly. Unsurprisingly I was ecstatic about the new conditions and the fact I wasn’t far off parole.

It’s strange when you get out of jail you feel like you’re wearing a badge that says convict and everyone seems both hilariously soft and amazingly nice.

The world is your oyster, it takes losing everything to appreciate just how magical life is.

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