I was walking on a dark street in the misty light when I saw him. He was large, a bit scary, carrying a big gun. I couldn’t run; all I could do was stare. Then he noticed me. He inched closer and closer as my body was frozen with fear. What could I do? Who could I call?
He looked rugged, like he’d not had a proper bath in years. His hair was greasy, tangled . His eyes were wide with thought, looking around at a world he’d not seen in over twenty years.
this man woke up in a cell. nothing else but blood in his hands and forehead. nothing else. blank memories in his head and sorrow in his heart. he was a convict of freedom.
Yes I am an Aussie. I’m not going to lie. However I can honestly say that my family paid their way and I am just another immigrant. Us Italians, we go everywhere, reason why? Because Italy is a shit-hole corrupt place to live in. It’s the truth. I know this, because I know live here. I gotta say, the food is good though!
He had been running for years, years upon years for a crime he had committed. A crime which had been blown out of proportion, stacked upon another, in addition to the theft of a heart. While running, his capacity for crime had escalated, causing him to become a cold-hearted man.
i don’t know what this word means so i can’t write something but when you give me a sec then i will translate it okay i translate it and i am not so good at convictin someone :D okay my translation was not correct :D
I don’t know any convicts. I used to live near the state penn. There were convicts there. Alex’s dad is a convict, I think. I’m pretty sure he is. I don’t know for sure though. So I still don’t know if I know any convicts.
So many striped sweaters in her wardrobe! As he climbed in, he felt more and more like a convict. The rustling of his birthday suit and hangers and swear words soon faded out as her husband entered the bedroom…
convict, conviction, a sinking heart and a flashbulb smile from the seats behind where the defendant sits. A lawyer that knows he goofed and checks to see how his pen is.
Once I was convicted. I’m not even sure what it means but I know I was. It changed my perspectives on things. I hope I can forget that one day and go back to the start.
In those years I was a convict of my mind. Somebody had taken my real me. I cannot think of anything that happened that didn’t intervene with the things I could have done…
you are a convict arent you. i saw you wrtting the names of all people in front of me , and saw their tired faces staring blankly at the screen which showed them the same reminder that it was a mistake , all of it , everything their people believed all they themselves believed in . seeing that scene made me feel sick to my stomach , but then again, its all just a part of our ” so called ” culture isnt it ? its all in our minds, we can maje the world whatever our minds choose to , and we all know that deep inside, yet we act like puppets of our history , never embracing a positive change . and whet then , politics , laws , leaders …… all human terms and ways of life ,,, no true agenda but our own benifit is there , pessimistic , i know , but remember , we’ve done it ourselves , and if we choose , we know that we can change it.
scary people are just plain old scary. they belong in jail. i dont like to see convicts or talk because they could be dangerous. i feel bad for the people who are innocent or the people who have really changed and they are wasting their life away in jail.
Let me be free. I have done nothing wrong, said nothing out of turn, and harmed no man or woman. Wrongly convicted. Treated like a rough animal. I am tired. And hurt.
a person who went to jail because they were a bellend and normally find outfits in fancy dress shops taking the piss out of them for partys :) don’t drop the soap ;) most are probs gay tbh.
so bad
A convict is “a person found guilty of a crime and sentenced by a court” or “a person serving a sentence in prison”, sometimes referred to in slang as simply a “con”. Convicts are often called prisoners or inmates. Persons convicted and sentenced to non-custodial sentences often are not termed “convicts”. Ex-convict (or short: ex-con) is a common way of referring to a person who has been released from prison.
The legal label of “ex-convict” has much wider lifelong implications, so the person may suffer long-term handicaps and social stigma, including restricting access to certain categories of employment. In the Australian context, the Federal government generally will not employ an ex-convict, but some other state organizations may or may not have a time limit restricting employment.
That’s it. I was convicted for stealing. YOLO they said. YOLO! Psh. What did they know about it. My life is ruined all because of the way-too-mainstream society we live in today.
well, i dont know what this word means, it sounds like conflict, like something mean, but well i dont i dont know, now i am with a friend and she doesnt know neither. So just think about it makes me shake a little bit. If you dont know about this word just invent like me, it is a kind of emotion like a feeling uhhhhuuhuuh that toonight gonna be a good night uhuhuhu hahah that song makes me belive in this word. No just kiddin, well trying to write fast in this keyboard, knowing i dont speak english is la AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA jajajja in spanish, so lets see just what i wrote hehe, so more time???? wiju , well this word makes me thing about someone angry because of something, but you never know, aaaaaaaaa many mistakes cant write like this so a
convict stripes, raggedy thin now from the drier of death, a hole in the armpit from a bar berserker rumbling by like a runaway train. Escaped from my boring collar shirts with the stains, my convict stripes.
MY cousin was convicted of a serious crime. I don’t know what it was, but his punishment was worse that death penalty. It was worse than Jail. He had to live in Ozumbuilla for the rest of his life.
His name was unimportant. Everyone could tell who he was. The instantly recognisable uniform announced it wherever he went. His past written on his face. It was something he could never escape.
a person sentenced to prison for something, mostly for breaking the law. But that person has a slight chance to be convicted by mistake. There have been cases.
He’d been here for months now. No way out. Alone. No love, no friends. No family. Life wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t necessarily hard now, either. He had paid the price. He’d learned.
the word meaning soeone in jail
the convict looked out the window with a blank expression,
one more year and he’ll see them. one more year and he’ll be free.
wrongly accused and convicted of something he did not do.
the real killer is roaming the streets.
Okay okay. You got me. Yeah I might have done one little thing wrong but I AM NOT crazy! Why don’t you believe me? come on! You cant convict me for this! Please?!?
I’ve written about the word ‘convict’ a while ago. So, I’m not sure why I’m writing about this again. Why is this the first word to be written about anyway?
A person who gets convicted can be innocent or not. Sometimes, they are given a chance to prove that they are innocent. Yet, life can be unfair because some of the innocent people still get convicted of a crime they did not commit.
I’m a convict in my own mind, guilty of all the pleasures and pain I’ve committed. I can break the barrier, jump these walls but would it change the outcome? When you’re a hero to some and a convict to the others, you’re still always a convict.
to be convicted is very scary. you would probably end up in jail. although the number of years varies; living conditions probably suck. at least you get fed & you don’t have to cook.
I hate conviction. It means hard work to me. Mental hard work, emotional hard work. I wish I could succeed without convicting. Good things should come easily.
The night was silent but for his running footsteps against the broken street. Somewhere out there, a car door slammed. A dog began to bark closer to him, and he sped up, his breathing coming fast and hard. They couldn’t catch him. If they caught him it was all over. He had to find Rena.
shaved head, kind of like the boys in my grade when they get their head shaved for school, for some reason theyre only men, forced to flee, criminals and have been forced to steal stuff because they have little or no money and their country sucks. came on teh first fleet and became white australia but the aboriginals got sick and kicked out
The masked bandit strode through the street, bold and careless, as easygoing as-you-please. His hunt, his jackpot — the silver trashcan that hadn’t been properly latched down.
‘Coons make one heckuva noise at two in the morning, let me tell you that. And this one, a regular and regular escapee from the traps we set out was no exception. **(From this mark is an extension after the minute –) Despite trapping him and setting him loose in the woods miles away, this fuzzy little convict always seemed to come back to our neighborhood — and my trashcan.
He sat by the window as the constant wave of drops hit the windowsill and the roof above him. He sat there as the day ran from him and he remained through the night, as if time did not exist. He arose from his bench along the wall at dawn and stood outside his door. His number was called and he was dismissed.
He was later caught alone and they did their worst. He didn’t now how much more he could endure. He was counting days on a piece of toilet paper he kept underneath his pillow, constantly taking it out to remind how many more days he had left.
He must have been denied his parole because one day after his meeting, he was found dead in the yard. Maybe he did this. Maybe they did this. He only had eighteen months left, poor son of a bitch.
I was walking on a dark street in the misty light when I saw him. He was large, a bit scary, carrying a big gun. I couldn’t run; all I could do was stare. Then he noticed me. He inched closer and closer as my body was frozen with fear. What could I do? Who could I call?
He looked rugged, like he’d not had a proper bath in years. His hair was greasy, tangled . His eyes were wide with thought, looking around at a world he’d not seen in over twenty years.
this man woke up in a cell. nothing else but blood in his hands and forehead. nothing else. blank memories in his head and sorrow in his heart. he was a convict of freedom.
Yes I am an Aussie. I’m not going to lie. However I can honestly say that my family paid their way and I am just another immigrant. Us Italians, we go everywhere, reason why? Because Italy is a shit-hole corrupt place to live in. It’s the truth. I know this, because I know live here. I gotta say, the food is good though!
He had been running for years, years upon years for a crime he had committed. A crime which had been blown out of proportion, stacked upon another, in addition to the theft of a heart. While running, his capacity for crime had escalated, causing him to become a cold-hearted man.
i don’t know what this word means so i can’t write something but when you give me a sec then i will translate it okay i translate it and i am not so good at convictin someone :D okay my translation was not correct :D
I don’t know any convicts. I used to live near the state penn. There were convicts there. Alex’s dad is a convict, I think. I’m pretty sure he is. I don’t know for sure though. So I still don’t know if I know any convicts.
convict. laws. breaking them. punishment. injustice. policemen. wanted. jails. unfair.
So many striped sweaters in her wardrobe! As he climbed in, he felt more and more like a convict. The rustling of his birthday suit and hangers and swear words soon faded out as her husband entered the bedroom…
convict, conviction, a sinking heart and a flashbulb smile from the seats behind where the defendant sits. A lawyer that knows he goofed and checks to see how his pen is.
Once I was convicted. I’m not even sure what it means but I know I was. It changed my perspectives on things. I hope I can forget that one day and go back to the start.
In those years I was a convict of my mind. Somebody had taken my real me. I cannot think of anything that happened that didn’t intervene with the things I could have done…
to accuse someone of a crime, do declare someone guilty, someone serving sentence of imprisonment.
you are a convict arent you. i saw you wrtting the names of all people in front of me , and saw their tired faces staring blankly at the screen which showed them the same reminder that it was a mistake , all of it , everything their people believed all they themselves believed in . seeing that scene made me feel sick to my stomach , but then again, its all just a part of our ” so called ” culture isnt it ? its all in our minds, we can maje the world whatever our minds choose to , and we all know that deep inside, yet we act like puppets of our history , never embracing a positive change . and whet then , politics , laws , leaders …… all human terms and ways of life ,,, no true agenda but our own benifit is there , pessimistic , i know , but remember , we’ve done it ourselves , and if we choose , we know that we can change it.
scary people are just plain old scary. they belong in jail. i dont like to see convicts or talk because they could be dangerous. i feel bad for the people who are innocent or the people who have really changed and they are wasting their life away in jail.
Were not as awful as you think we are. Yes, we do some wrong but no more then the next guy. We just get caught more often then others.
Let me be free. I have done nothing wrong, said nothing out of turn, and harmed no man or woman. Wrongly convicted. Treated like a rough animal. I am tired. And hurt.
a person who went to jail because they were a bellend and normally find outfits in fancy dress shops taking the piss out of them for partys :) don’t drop the soap ;) most are probs gay tbh.
so bad
A convict is “a person found guilty of a crime and sentenced by a court” or “a person serving a sentence in prison”, sometimes referred to in slang as simply a “con”. Convicts are often called prisoners or inmates. Persons convicted and sentenced to non-custodial sentences often are not termed “convicts”. Ex-convict (or short: ex-con) is a common way of referring to a person who has been released from prison.
The legal label of “ex-convict” has much wider lifelong implications, so the person may suffer long-term handicaps and social stigma, including restricting access to certain categories of employment. In the Australian context, the Federal government generally will not employ an ex-convict, but some other state organizations may or may not have a time limit restricting employment.
That’s it. I was convicted for stealing. YOLO they said. YOLO! Psh. What did they know about it. My life is ruined all because of the way-too-mainstream society we live in today.
My cousin Pablo was convicted of a serious crime. His punishment was worse that death. It was worse than jail. He was forced to live in Ozumbilla.
well, i dont know what this word means, it sounds like conflict, like something mean, but well i dont i dont know, now i am with a friend and she doesnt know neither. So just think about it makes me shake a little bit. If you dont know about this word just invent like me, it is a kind of emotion like a feeling uhhhhuuhuuh that toonight gonna be a good night uhuhuhu hahah that song makes me belive in this word. No just kiddin, well trying to write fast in this keyboard, knowing i dont speak english is la AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA jajajja in spanish, so lets see just what i wrote hehe, so more time???? wiju , well this word makes me thing about someone angry because of something, but you never know, aaaaaaaaa many mistakes cant write like this so a
convict stripes, raggedy thin now from the drier of death, a hole in the armpit from a bar berserker rumbling by like a runaway train. Escaped from my boring collar shirts with the stains, my convict stripes.
MY cousin was convicted of a serious crime. I don’t know what it was, but his punishment was worse that death penalty. It was worse than Jail. He had to live in Ozumbuilla for the rest of his life.
His name was unimportant. Everyone could tell who he was. The instantly recognisable uniform announced it wherever he went. His past written on his face. It was something he could never escape.
a person sentenced to prison for something, mostly for breaking the law. But that person has a slight chance to be convicted by mistake. There have been cases.
He’d been here for months now. No way out. Alone. No love, no friends. No family. Life wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t necessarily hard now, either. He had paid the price. He’d learned.
the word meaning soeone in jail
the convict looked out the window with a blank expression,
one more year and he’ll see them. one more year and he’ll be free.
wrongly accused and convicted of something he did not do.
the real killer is roaming the streets.
Okay okay. You got me. Yeah I might have done one little thing wrong but I AM NOT crazy! Why don’t you believe me? come on! You cant convict me for this! Please?!?
I’ve written about the word ‘convict’ a while ago. So, I’m not sure why I’m writing about this again. Why is this the first word to be written about anyway?
A person who gets convicted can be innocent or not. Sometimes, they are given a chance to prove that they are innocent. Yet, life can be unfair because some of the innocent people still get convicted of a crime they did not commit.
I’m a convict in my own mind, guilty of all the pleasures and pain I’ve committed. I can break the barrier, jump these walls but would it change the outcome? When you’re a hero to some and a convict to the others, you’re still always a convict.
I’m a convict, trapped inside my own mind’s prison. I’m guilty of all the mistakes I made and all the actions I was afraid to commit.
to be convicted is very scary. you would probably end up in jail. although the number of years varies; living conditions probably suck. at least you get fed & you don’t have to cook.
The burnt out residue of yesterday’s fire was still on the face of the lawyer extraordinaire. The fiend was in jail. A free man turned convict.
I hate conviction. It means hard work to me. Mental hard work, emotional hard work. I wish I could succeed without convicting. Good things should come easily.
The night was silent but for his running footsteps against the broken street. Somewhere out there, a car door slammed. A dog began to bark closer to him, and he sped up, his breathing coming fast and hard. They couldn’t catch him. If they caught him it was all over. He had to find Rena.
shaved head, kind of like the boys in my grade when they get their head shaved for school, for some reason theyre only men, forced to flee, criminals and have been forced to steal stuff because they have little or no money and their country sucks. came on teh first fleet and became white australia but the aboriginals got sick and kicked out
The masked bandit strode through the street, bold and careless, as easygoing as-you-please. His hunt, his jackpot — the silver trashcan that hadn’t been properly latched down.
‘Coons make one heckuva noise at two in the morning, let me tell you that. And this one, a regular and regular escapee from the traps we set out was no exception. **(From this mark is an extension after the minute –) Despite trapping him and setting him loose in the woods miles away, this fuzzy little convict always seemed to come back to our neighborhood — and my trashcan.
He sat by the window as the constant wave of drops hit the windowsill and the roof above him. He sat there as the day ran from him and he remained through the night, as if time did not exist. He arose from his bench along the wall at dawn and stood outside his door. His number was called and he was dismissed.
He was later caught alone and they did their worst. He didn’t now how much more he could endure. He was counting days on a piece of toilet paper he kept underneath his pillow, constantly taking it out to remind how many more days he had left.
He must have been denied his parole because one day after his meeting, he was found dead in the yard. Maybe he did this. Maybe they did this. He only had eighteen months left, poor son of a bitch.
Inmate #100985