THE CONVICT

The convict lay twirling in a grey corner of the dark cell
Today is the day of making the last wish
Last day on earth
A flash of the sentence day pierced his mind again
He confessed, but was never penitent
He had to be so, after all, a sacrament
His heart mellowed, and his tear ducts were so dry
Day of induced salvation, “Welcome death”
Officers came to prepare the well-prepared man
Out of the cell, handcuffed, he strolled
Reached the platform covering the deep
Asked to make his last wish, nodded his head
Before his vision was made blind forever
He saw a cat staring at him with crystal green eyes…