Poems of Lighthouse Bob

Prison Break #397



Prison Break

“Oh, look! There's Paul!”
the masses called
as he was drug in chains
through marketplace to magistrate
where pompous dudes with brains
sent him on to prison,
sent him there to find,
in inner courts, these guys in skorts,
the heavy metal kind,
would bind his feet in shackles,
would stripe his back with pain
that, so intense, it made him wince
when settled in his veins
a song began to rumble,
the walls began to shake
and, then and there, joy filled the air
when prison doors did break
and, suddenly, swung open,
the locks on chains did fall
releasing mates though prison gates
where all did leave, but Paul
who stayed there for a moment
for guard, who left behind,
to see his place and find in Grace
that God gives peace of mind.






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Prison Break #397

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