Phillip Garcia Poet Sonnet

Capital Crime

I know tomorrow what writing this means;
Reckless defiance I’m sure all this seems;
But I’m more worn down than old denim jeans,
Tattered by scenes ripping holes through my dreams.
Try to imagine how things were before,
Study brown eyes overwhelmed once by yours,
Then trade me places and open the door,
To day after day where your worst fear occurs.
My life’s a nightmare that feels like a wake,
Stuck in a box with my pain on display,
Where smiles on faces see God’s great mistake,
Tortured in anguish that has this to say -
  I owe a penance for squandering time,
  Failing your love was a capital crime.

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Deborah Burch December 21, 2016 at 4:45 PM Oh Wow!! *tear* this is very well done Philip!!! Big Hugggs. Deb

Daniel Turner October 30, 2016 at 11:27 AM I'm feeling the pain of your broken heart, my friend. It's not your fault, Phillip. Sometimes love just doesn't work out.

Joanna Daniel October 30, 2016 at 9:49 AM Maybe it never was your fault, Philip:) You have not failed her:) this is a beautiful and deep sonnet:)