We who are down
among the pigs,
who have squandered
our inheritance
to wallow
in the excrement of
our own progress --
Prodigal Son,
we salute you!
And should you pass a thought
for your former days,
remember us who did not turn.
© John McNeil. All rights reserved.
This poem may be used free of charge, on the condition that copies are not sold for profit in any medium, nor any entrance fee charged to a performance. In exchange, the author would appreciate being notified of any occasion the poem is used in public performance. He may be contacted at: