This is no way to be Man ought to be free That man should be me Talk to the walls Echoes down the halls Dream of dreams An allusion freedom seems Write thoughts on paper by reams
Toilet flushes Water gushes Makes such a noise Lack of privacy annoys Nightime [sic] sounds Jailer makes rounds No freedom abounds Prisoners are clowns
So the night slowly passes No wine of wine glasses No girls to make passes Just us caged asses Cards are alright I play them all night
Sleep comes on slowly Read the words of the wholly The scriptures bring peace They talk of release They bring you to god I’m here that seems odd But His gift is so clear I find that He’s near Mercy and redemption Without an exception He puts me at ease Jailer, do what you please No harm can befall me When the Savior does call me
I look back on this day And what can I say More of my life wasted No freedom I’ve tasted 7:30 it’s chow time At that hour who feels fine Milk, mush, and toast Not much of to boast
Sweep the floors Talk of whores Hear the thunder of prison doors Do your chores Listen to bores How guys made scores Or escaped distant shores
I wrote a letter That made me feel better Words to the outside That’s how I keep my pride I write words of hope It’s really no soap I mean what I say Where there’s hope there’s a way I’ll be free someday
I sleep quite a lot Escape though it’s not In sleep I don’t care I forget the night mare The bars and the screams Are not in my dreams I don’t smoke cigarettes Or have sad regrets This sleep liberation Is tranquil salvation
- A poem by Ted Bundy sent to his friendand true crime writer Ann Rule.
Description: (requested) Reader is too shy to tell Jughead about her feelings, so Veonica and Betty take matters in to their own hands (mostly Veronica)
Warnings: Swears, fluff so much fluff I couldn’t even deAL
Being in love with your best friend isn’t easy. It feels taboo, like it’s wrong, and unhealthy. You’ll lay awake at ungodly hours of the night, wondering “How did this happen?” You’ll replay every moment of every waking minute you spent with them, wondering how in the world you ended up lying on your floor with an empty bowl of ramen beside your head and imagining what it would feel like to kiss them. You’ll catch yourself admiring the tiniest insignificant things about them, and every detail of their stupidly cute face, and every indent and curve and freckle on their body, and let me tell you, it sucks. Falling in love with your best friend isn’t easy, especially when your best friend is Jughead Jones.
“During that time, I thought I was Jesus and decided that if i killed my grandfather, I would be imprisoned and therefore would be unable to be crucified.” ~ Kevin Adams
Kevin Adams was only 19 when he stabbed his grandfather to death in 2008. He was diagnosed as a paranoid schizophrenic. Unfortunately Adams refused to believe he suffers from a mental illness. Instead, he blamed his actions on marijuana. He was sent to a mental hospital.
Kevin Crump and Allan Baker met one another in prison while both serving sentences for robbery. The duo decided to meet up once released to begin a life of crime; robbery soon led to murder. On 3 November, 1973, the two shot dead Ian James Lamb while he was asleep in his car. On 9 November, they were camping near the home of Brian and Virginia Morse. They watched over the house for two days before abducting 35-year-old Virginia. She was bound and gagged in their car while they drove from Collarbenebri to Queensland, abusing and torturing her along the way and on one occasion, stopping to tie her to a tree where they then took turns raping her before bundling her back in the back. When they were bored of raping and torturing Virginia, they shot her between the eyes before dumping her body in a river. The two were arrested on 13 November after their stolen vehicle was reported. They were sentenced to life imprisonment.