A Happy Childhood Cut Short
Riddled with guilt, riddled with bullets
For crimes committed, societal crimes
The fate of the unwashed masses grasped
The Oliver Twisted twist of the sullied poor
The man who never became a man but a boy
The guilt of being born in the first place
Weighs heavier than the bullets in their case
Filth caked on flesh along the desperate mile
All roads lead to one direction for the dirty
Chance favors the objectivity in these matters
Guns open fire on the ridiculous moment
On the snatched body from the womb
Rain comes to wash away the doomed
To cover the mistake of birth in the first place
A mistake, a person of less interest now
Can rest at last below the willow tree
What is left to sort out is the howling wind
All actions have consequences
All lead to an end without a friend
To the haunted grave at castle town
Below a tree that cries for no one
A child without a name but reputation
Alone with soil as his company for sure
Sullied as it is and not much more
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment