Poems Of Prison นิยาย & เรื่องราว

This time, I was not crying from sadness or pain. These were tears of joy. ... The farce was finally over. Ryan and Zelda were sentenced to heavy prison terms due to the massive amount of money involved and the premeditated murder plot, with multiple charges combined. They would spend the rest of their lives behind bars, while the innocent child was sent to a foster care facility to await a new family. After Margaret woke up, she had a mental breakdown and was sent to a psychiatric hospital. The Lawson family was done entirely for. I filed for divorce in court, and because Ryan committed serious marital misconduct, I did not give him a single cent of my assets.

Truly. I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been down here. It could be four days, maybe more, but time has no meaning in the dark, dank pit they’ve thrown me into and they call it prison. The stench of rot and dampness is so thick it clings to my skin, mixing with the coppery scent of my blood. The cell is small, the walls slick with moisture, and the air so cold it bites into my bones, especially now that I’ve been stripped of my dignity—and almost everything else. It is funny huh right? How your whole Lu free can crash right before your eyes. One minute, I was there, at the finish line, about to fill my lifelong dreams and make it a reality and the next? I find myself in a dark prison kind of

I laugh again, a nervous, grating laugh that sounds like a small act of rebellion. I lie down on the bed, the hard mattress punishing every inch of my back. The bars cast shadows on the wall, like fingers of shadow wanting to hold me back. The sounds of the prison envelop me: metallic clanging, distant murmurs, nervous laughter, screams. Each sound is a reminder of my fall… but also a breath of life.

Isabel's prison cell had never felt as confining as it did now. The four gray walls, the narrow bed, the flickering light overhead it was a cage, but not the one that truly held her. The real prison was inside her mind, a twisting labyrinth of rage, envy, and obsession. No walls could contain the fire that burned in her heart, no bars could stop the thoughts that consumed her.

Are you trying to say that you're not hating yourself because you don't love yourself? - I mean that you should put a potted plant in the cells, it is beneficial for the prisoner and the jailer. - I say turning around in bed and facing him. Yeah, it really could serve as a hobby so I wouldn't be alone with my mind. I knew it was a mirage, but I caught a glimpse of my mother's silhouette watching me from the hall. - Do you want me to put a flower vase here? Yeah, you really are weird. You know, many prisoners ask for more food, a better mattress, water, or even a decent place to piss.

‘Caged’ By Martha Magdalena This cage my life Me useless to change it I know every corner of the cage I don’t know my capturers But I know their rules I know the consequences They want me to entertain them But I won’t Faces pressed to the window Cameras in their hand They search the cage for me They read the sigh Which has no insight to me They leave snacks in plain sight Wanting me to come out To give in to temptation But I won’t I am in control of my actions The lights go off Everyone leaves, disappointed I am moved No expectations No watching eyes A false sense of freedom But still trapped Still forced to survive until Forced out again I see others through the windows Behind the waiting c

(POV) Edric and Meira are placed in different small prisons. Stay next door. The difference is that the small jail on the left is filled with temporary prisoners whose contents are male, while the one on the right is filled with temporary prisoners whose contents are all women. Edric roared in prison. All his words cursed Meira.

When the door opened, it led the path to another tunnel. This time, Raeherys found the place almost like hell. Most of the cells contained living, but only mad and forsaken men. Some were silent, some crazy, and some were crying for help. The foul scent filled the air, mixed with the stink of sweat and of piss. “Aldin, Aldin is that you?” said one of the mad prisoners they passed by. One kept on laughing by himself and one was staring at the dark wall. “Help me …” one woman cried as she reached her frail hands out of the prison bars.

I took refuge within myself to accept that reality, and live with it. After two years, I was kind of not so afraid of prison. There was a little compassion every time I noticed the faces of those men. Some were destroyed with a few days of seclusion, others took a little longer to give in. Some didn't even have the chance to feel what the conviviality was like. There was nothing beautiful in jail, nothing romantic, and reality was always willing to hit us in the face. I sighed as the men unleashed talking about the goods they had arrived to endure that month when most of the prisoners were sick. Luckily, my nose didn't run anymore, so I didn't have to stay so far from the pan to prepare the

She would face her fate with dignity and courage, refusing to compromise her principles or betray her conscience for the sake of her own survival. Locked within the confines of the small, dank prison cell, Sarah found herself surrounded by a sea of despair. The walls seemed to close in around her, suffocating her with the weight of her own hopelessness. She could hear the distant echoes of her fellow prisoners' cries, a haunting reminder of the horrors that awaited them all.