A wealthy old American, perhaps like you or I
Lay down to sleep in his comfortable bed
And, in the darkness, died.

Imagine his shock and his dismay,
This man who had it all and more,
To find himself an immigrant
Cast up on heaven’s shore.

The cherubim and Seraphim
All cast disdainful glances
At this importunate immigrant.
They didn’t like his chances.

“Heaven is quite full enough!”
The elect, in unison, said.
“We’re sure you’ll find a fit in Hell
Perhaps try there instead””

The poor man looked from face to face
But no mercy could he find.
Treated like a ******* sort-
Ignored and cast aside.

He wandered, homeless, cloud to cloud,
But no rest did he find.
An illegal tossed between Heaven and Hell
Bereft of Kin and kind.

For those who sit in judgement here
May find the tables turned
When they themselves are supplicants,
When it is they who yearn..