He Waited!

He knew he was innocent of his wife’s murder! The Foureyed Poet.

The Foureyed Poet

A nagging voice kept speaking inside his head

making him shudder and dread lights out.

In eight hours he knew he could well be dead

hoping his appeal would have some clout.

Laying down upon a sweat soaked single bed

absorbing the sounds of the prison cell.

What a fool he thought for being easily led

wanting the chance for the truth to tell.

Over and over a melodic tune kept playing

within his thoughts no way was he a killer.

For so long he had been hoping and praying

feeling the fear gripping tightly the bed pillar.

The lawyer said this was his last gasp appeal

why had his good life now turned so sour.

Panic again made him get down and kneel

as time had moved forward by another hour.

Yes like so many he had been guided to god

for the strength to face his impending end.

Totally trapped he…

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Published in: on 01/11/2014 at 21:01  Leave a Comment  

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