Emotional Stream
After the murder
his skin started to crawl,
it felt moist,
as he watched the body fall,
he felt the sweat prickle on his forehead,
while looking at the dead,
thinking,
blinking,
rapidly,
he then took a deep breath,
while standing over death,
he felt regrets,
as guilt was riddled on his face,
he’d get away,
because he left no trace,
but remorse would stay,
as he killed a man that day,
and the guilt ate at his heart,
and nothing could shake that apart,
it felt like bugs crawling up his leg,
his face frozen,
as he stood there,
mind filling with fear,
then he turned around and around
in slow manic circles,
then he fell down to the ground,
lost in an emotional stream,
and he wished it had all been a dream.
Copyright © Frank F. Atanacio | Year Posted 2009
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