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A poem reflecting many people's attitudes that prison in England is not much of a punishment due to the easy way of life. Certainly not like the jails in America, that's for sure.


Submitted:Feb 8, 2013    Reads: 53    Comments: 12    Likes: 11   


Butlins

How super to sleep in a laundered sheet!

How wondrous to wake to a fry up!

Swanky hotels would be pressed to compete.

Thank God for my criminal makeup!

-

My cell's as swish a sumptuous suite.

My flat on the outside's horrendous.

They polish the flooring beneath my feet.

The perks of this sentence are endless.

-

Most of the days I play video games,

Or do courses to learn a new skill.

The Ritz and Savoy would be put to shame,

And it's all on the taxpayer's bill.

-

At weekends I chill, and follow the game.

(It's now shown in 3D for a thrill)

A life as a murderer, that's my aim,

For there's plenty of time left to kill.

-

A life without bills - A life without tax.

To reside behind bars is a breeze.

Though both of my neighbours are maniacs,

I'm protected by CCTV.

-

I lay in my pad, and listen to tracks

From my endless collection of discs,

Then fill up my face with sugary snacks

Before heading for exercise, brisk.

-

My membership's free to the local gym -

I run, and lift weights at my leisure.

I'm looking muscular, healthy and trim,

And fitness to me is a pleasure.

-

A life without bars is a life that sucks,

So let's commit crimes all together,

And head to a jail that's cushy, de luxe,

And live at her majesty's pleasure.





11

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