Philip was a wealthy man,
A Prince among his peers.
With no regard for human life,
No plight could draw his tears.

He would stand upon his mountain,
Looking down on the Earth,
As if power and possessions,
Somehow increased his worth.

He cared nothing for the needy,
His wealth, he would not share.
He hoped that most would starve to death,
And stop using up his air.

Alexander was a pauper,
A man down on his luck.
Reduced to begging on the streets
To earn himself a buck.

He was hired three times a week,
By one of Philip's aids.
Because he resembled Philip,
He was used in these charades.

Philip had many enemies,
And he needed a decoy.
Alexander was hungry,
So agreed to the ploy.

And each evening for his trouble,
He didn't make a sound,
As they paid for the risks he took,
With a single English pound.

And so it went for many months,
Until the threat had passed.
Alexander wasn't needed,
So aside he was cast.

They threw him into prison,
In case there'd come a day.
When he would again be needed,
Afraid he'd slip away.

And there he was forgotten,
Until the day he died.
By none, was he remembered.
Not a singled tear was cried.

Philip too, soon passed away,
He was honored everywhere.
He had a royal funeral,
It was a grand affair.

The two met at the Pearly Gates,
Saw Jesus waiting there,
Alexander received his wings,
For the life he had to bear.

Philip claimed a mistake was made,
"You must have the wrong man.
That fellow's been a criminal
>From the day his life began."

But Jesus reassured him,
"I know to whom I speak.
Alexander was my servant,
His spirit is unique."

"Now he will be rewarded,
For what he had to do.
According to the life he led,
As it too shall be for you."

"But I have no wings to give you,
To reward you for your deeds.
There was so much you could have done,
But you didn't plant the seeds."

"What grew were weeds of hatred,
For all humanity.
And for everyone you hated,
You also hated me."

"Your reward is separation,
The darkness now awaits.
Where you will find others like you,
Who could not pass these gates."

"So let this be a lesson,
The last one that you'll learn.
The rewards waiting through that gate,
Are rewards you have to earn."

Tweet

Comments on this poem/writing:

Click here to read other Poems by Mark Spencer

Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved.   No part of this website, including all pictures and written words,  may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without  permission of the original author of the work.  All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner.  All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail: dreamer@dreamersreality.com  so the proper person may be notified.