I saw on that fateful day,
Through the window
Of my abnormally small cell,
A man by the name of P.F Hollow
Greet his destiny, by way of the gallows.

In the courtyard, stood a mammoth
And quite frankly, monstrous crowd,
Who served as audience,
Witnessing  the slow
And most gruesome death.

I recall, just before dropped,
The man was unable to allow his
Final remarks to pass through his lips,
Without being pelted by several stones
And whatever garbage the crowd
Could lay hand on.

As he dropped,
I thought for a moment that if I
Were the one to find myself
Facing the gallows, I'd much sooner
Have them shoot me instead.

It had taken Hollow a matter of minutes
To stop kicking, and all the while
I had called from my window,
Pleading with the guards
To shoot the poor soul.

However I found myself threatened
That I would be next had I
Not held my tongue.
With no other options,
I stood there in joining view with the crowd.

I felt disgusted as I gazed
Upon the various expressions
From the crowd, many of them cheerful
As if the man was hanging
For their own personal entertainment.

As his body swing back and forth,
Much as a pendulum, it was evident
That his time had finally escaped
From the hourglass, that each soul
On Earth is forced to consider life.  

Tick-Tock.