Henry Duran

"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