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