Sentenced to a life of reviewing
His wrongs
Within a six by nine cell
Day in, day out
No recreation, no TV
Shower once a week.
Sitting in his cell
Staring at the floor
For the rest of his days
In death row.
Time has caught up to him
It's time to pay the fiddler,
Upon his unmarked grave
No lone piper will walk
A salute with amazing grace.

Time dwendled away
Faster than a speeding bullet
Thirteen years of appeals
And temporary reprieves
Came to an end
In more than one way
At sunrise tomorrow
He'll see not, it's beauty
Glowing nor it's glory
Silently between a Guard
And a sad looking Padre
He'll walk at dawn
His final mile
as they say.

His next stop will be
The gates of heaven
Or those of hell,
braking the silence
In the air
That surrounds him
Is the sound
Of ringing church bells
From a distance afar.

Is that a tear of regret
I see slowly traveling
Down the side, of his face?
Or are the bells
Bringing him memories
Of better days
Of once upon a time
Some where down
His life line.


By: William Bonilla
10/19/06