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Other poems from this poet:

Story of a Convict

Jesus came to America,
And visited me in my cell,
On my lonely journey to hell.
Told me,
"Jimmy if you don't change your ways,
This prison cell will seem swell.

Well, I cleaned up my rancid ways,
Hell, I wanted to see the rest of my days.
So at this bus stop I saw these 2 Mormons,
Clean black suits, Elder Hess and Elder Gray,
Told'em thanks for Jesus given me pay.
His blood in my pocket,
A wooden cross in my heart,
Taken from from the prison cell,
Where I got my new start,
And a one way ticket to Salt Lake City,
To take Jesus back to America.

Malcolm Ward Richards II

Copyright ©2009  Malcolm Ward Richards II