As Innocence Has To Stumble On A Trapdoor Poem by Mark Heathcote

Innocence has to stumble on a trapdoor.
Tears will trample on your temperance.
They will rain like rocks in belligerence.
By the end of your life, there'll be a lakeshore.

Where virtue has been disguised from all eyes
That's when your heart will flutter like flotsam.
In despair, heavy as the oxen, loathsome
Wandering in restraints, you'll drown unsupervised.

Ah, darling, if I have a cardiac arrest
Don't just pray for my life; pray for my soul.
At least free me and grant me my parole.
It will be another day paid for and acquiesced.