There, in the middle of the land,
stands a prison, high and tall;
Made of earth, rock and sand,
West Mesa Penitentiary - a warning to crooks one and all
Although unknown in origin and place in times,
the pantheon of residents know their roles to play;
officers protect and defend, outlaws wait and think
from dawn to dusk, from day to day,
but little did anyone know that in that world of cells and crimes,
two officers would unknowingly become part of an important link.
A teenager no more, the man named Price
joined the police force and remained for years of eight;
Strong and loyal he is also known for his heart of ice
he laughed and teased at the prisoners' fate
But he would soon receive a lashing from destiny's will;
Unknown to him or his good friend Panpa, an intruder arrived
in but a few disguises, fooling everyone with tricks, mirrors and smoke;
A seemingly innocent gift dropped off with no message or bill
on a mission to a would-be robber, its sender from another place knowing it survived
and by the time Price knew this, he realized too late; he was burdened with the joke.
Eager and new to his peacekeeping tasks
Young Panpa looked ahead to make his mark on the world
He started small, inspecting packages for useful tools or masks
One day, however, his ambition would be unfurled;
A new inmate was transferred into the stone block -
A thief; he recently tried to break into a bank and make a steal
And it was within West Mesa the thief and the new recruit would meet
For it was Panpa who gave him the keys to freedom and newfound zeal;
After he escaped, the officer's eyes looked to the clock -
It was ticking so slowly, his sinking heart rapidly skipped a beat
He was finished here - nothing could save his job now, not even a heartfelt deal.
A/N: This is my first time writing this form of poetry - the ode. Originating in ancient Greece (and originally as songs), odes are lyrical poems dedicated to someone or something. They're often written to commemorate or praise a person, event or object. They can even weave stories into these odes to explain something that's happening from an objective standpoint. Odes can rhyme, but it isn't a necessary rule so to speak. Stanzas can range between three to five, and usually each stanza contains ten lines but this can be played with, as I have done with these odes.
The two aforementioned actors in the stanzas were perfect for this type of poem - they were both a part of something historic but not in necessarily the best thing to happen to them although they both deserve praise for what they tried to do in their jobs. Enjoy!