POEM: The Road

This poem is an *IA Writing Competition (creative work category) entry.

*CONTENT WARNING: This poem recounts details of violence, including suicide

THE ROAD

Tamworth Prison

A place of adult confinement.
Built in 1879 with warm local brick
and handsome stone dressings.

In 1947, Tamworth was re-purposed
for the reception, detention,
maintenance, discipline, education
and training of Children and Young Persons.

Officer roll call

Officers, please answer to your name —

The Silver Sadist
Mr Freeze
The Skull
Queenie
Our Dayley Bread
The FBI (fucking big idiot)
Simple Simon
The Boxer
The Good Officer
The Arsehole
The Hellman
The Shit Chef
Loose Louie

UR paid to starve
bash, torture and
do what U like to us.

UR all R souls, butt
we R supposed 2 4 get what
UR doing 2 us.

The Tamworth Bash

The routine at Tamworth was similar
to meticulous naval standards.
A system characterised by punishment
for the slightest infringement of rule,
meal deprivation, solitary confinement
and permanent observation.
More harsh than an adult gaol.

Dayley was his name.
Bashing boys was his game.
When a boy fell to the floor,
He’d pick him up and bash him once more.

Smashing boys’ heads against a steel door.
Until blood started to pour.
Then Dayley would walk away,
Very happy with his day.

Tamworth shower time

We stand in the shower block.
No roof, no top.
A tap on the shoulder,
You are told to shave.
Everything is getting colder.
We try to be brave.
The officer is wearing
His grey military blazer.
It’s Bobby’s turn
To use the razor.
Bobby turns towards me,
Razor in hand.
He cuts his own throat
As fast as he can.
The officer runs over
Bobby slashes a finger
On the officer’s hand.
It’s hanging by a thread,
What can we do?
Nothing. Just stand still.
Bobby would rather be dead.

Tamworth Boys Institution
Was officially shut down in 1989
“following a spate of suicides”.

After Tamworth

The road was long and very steep with potholes, rocks and mud.
Sinkholes in a road sealed with hate, with hurt, no love.
Sadness, hunger and darkness.
Nineteen years, five months and six days
Spent in youth institutions and adult prisons.

Then the top of the hill came in sight.
I looked down and beyond to the horizon.
There was sunshine, beautiful trees, all different shades.

Soft green grass, colourful flowers.
Children playing in the fields, families having picnics.
The road is now straight, very clean and stretches on.
I am finally home with my family and friends, where I belong.

If you would like to speak to someone about suicide or any concerns arising from this article, you can call Lifeline on 13 11 14.

Keith Kelly was sent to The Institution for Boys, Tamworth in 1961, where he was tortured, starved and bashed. In 2013, he gave evidence during the Brisbane public hearings at the Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sex Abuse.

* Full IA Writing Competition details HERE.