\"Do you hear the passing of the smile?
As you morph into a man-made man?
Contort your life and soul all the while
Hide who you are when you still can\"
So heard Henry Duran, talk of the town
Inside his inner walls, his inner cell
The most beloved, riches rivaling crown
Though only deeds in past did he dwell
Henry walked the streets near the rest
His body free of dirt, grime, and mud
Not a soul who passed by would guess
A different kind of filth was in his blood
Henry smiled, greeted to all around
While hiding in his mind, his inner cell
By years of guilt he thus would drown
Unable to be freed, but by fires of hell