The Chair

He sits in the chair and begins to pray,

That the governer will call with an execution stay.

Watching as the clock ticks closer to his doom,

Will tomorrow find him in a tomb.

He didn't think he hit her that strong,

Even though he knew hitting her was wrong.

But to much drink of the sour mash

Allowed that uninhibited upward slash.

The bone in her nose pierced her brain

making the life from her drain.

Powerless, but to watch her die,

He was too angered, to even cry.

As he is sitting in that chair,

For the end of his life he tries to prepare.

He asks forgiveness of one and all

While continuing to pray for the governer's call.

The time comes and the switch is thrown

and another life is ended, soon to be unknown.

Was the forgiveness he sought bestowed from on high?

Was he really prepared to die?

Those who witnessed this tragic end

Some were relieved hoping their lives to mend.

Others mourned the loss of their son

Leaving me to ask...was justice won?

Does the taking of one life justify taking another,

What if it was your sister, brother, father, or mother?

Life is so precious we all have a call

If we keep killing one another we will lose it all.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This came to me in a dream. Unfortunately the poem in the dream was better than what I could remember of it.  This poem asks the question of the validity of capitol punishment.  I used to be strongly for it, but now realize how valuable all life is.

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