Buying The Prison Poem by robert dickerson

The time is now. You have the cash in hand.
Phlox and pansies prink the prison yard
Those who guarded you betimes you guard
And there is wine enough to soak the sand.
Loves that filled the corners of the cell
Like whirling ghosts, abated and escaped
Dash for the sea-shore and pell-mell
Leaves you gasping, sighing, ruined and raped.
A pretty house albeit square and poor
These four bare walls will make, this rotting floor
The fire flares the way it did before;
The keep, too, you have in peaceful keeping
Enough of gnashing, now, enough of weeping
Let there be laughter after easy sleeping