by Mark Bishop
He got a poster today
it covers up the black and
gray, well at least in part
He wakes up every morning
straightens that colorful square on the wall of his cell
and prays for a roommate
to talk with and wish well
He got a friend today
And all those things he
had to say found listening ears
Every night they talk just
before they go to bed
and pray for a candle to
give them warmth and light for stories they haven't read
He got a lamp today
Every joyful golden ray
chases darkness from the cell
after his roommate falls
asleep he stays up late with a good book
and prays for a nice meal
to fill his ache and warm his heart
He got released today
He had to leave the poster
and the lamp.
His friend still had
another 10 years.
All for which he'd hoped
and prayed was gone, a sentence idly paid.
Yet this was freedom,
surely this was good,
but still he longed to see
again his friend his bed his black bared door
but knew he never would