This poem was written by Ralph Chaplain and published in the Industrial Pioneer in 1923. As a side note, the term used at the time for an escaping prisoner is “wildcat”.
A man has fled…! We clutch the bars and wait;
The corridors are empty, tense, and still;
A silver mist has dimmed the distant hill;
The guards have gathered at the prison gate
Then suddenly the “wildcat” blares its hate
Like some mad Moloch screaming for the kill;
Shattering the air with terror loud and shrill,
The dim, gray walls become articulate.
But Freedom! Freedom is not there nor here!
In those far cities men can only find
A vaster prison and a redder hell,
O’ershadowed by new wings of greater fear.
Brave fool, for such a world to leave behind
The iron sanctuary of a cell!