In my last Prison Camp post,
FAREWELL TO PRISON, I described the uneasy final months before my release: the waiting, the false hopes, and the small rituals that held the days together.
Leaving prison is never just a logistical event — it’s an emotional unmooring. In Farewell to Prison, I described the final days and the strange mix of hope, dread, and disbelief that runs through every man waiting for the door to open.
For this week’s Log/Verse, I’m sharing a short piece I wrote not long after my release — a reflection on what follows you out, and what you leave behind.
LEAVING PRISON
No one leaves prison as they came
just ask my wife who knows.
Not that I know how I arrived
but nothing like I’m now.
Of all the men I came to know
they won’t remember me.
Forgotten as those prison cells
I’m likely dread as well.
Remorse is all that we have left,
it never goes away.
This piece grew out of the same stretch of days described in Sunday’s Farewell to Prison — that uneasy period when you’re half-in, half-out, already imagining freedom but still carrying the weight of where you are. If you missed it, you can read Part II of that story below. Farewell to Prison II
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By John DiMenna · Launched 6 months ago
John DiMenna is a writer and memoirist, exploring personal transformation, resilience, and ethical reckoning. His work reflects on his journey through business, incarceration, and redemption, offering insights into the human experience
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