A crime was never perpetrated.
His sentence underestimated.
A life concealed beyond their view.
An innocent man nobody knew.
He died when no one came around.
They lied so truth was never found.
An empty heart became his home.
Where he now writes another poem.
The world keeps turning and changing course.
From our tomorrow's, you can't divorce.
Even if God brings you home.
Someone else will write a poem.
We have no choice but to go on.
Remembering the one's who've gone.
And with each fiber of our being.
It's them, we hope we will be seeing.
Blessed be our love that God connected us with. Amen.
Copyright © robert johnson