David Pekrul Poet Rhyme

Scratches On the Wall

Four men standing in a row and then one laid across,
Just sticks of time and marks upon the wall,
A measurement of attitude, of loneliness and pain,
But others see it as a lot of scrawl.

Sticks of time, a calendar of wasted days and years,
Just scratches of a life that's gone to waste,
While taking time to tell a tale of life behind these bars,
With years ahead there's never any haste.

Four men standing in a row and then one laid across,
It's now a crowd that stands upon the wall,
As five men turn to twenty-five, then eighteen thousand strong,
With fifty years of scratching on the wall.

Fifty years, an army strong, the witnesses of death,
Accusers to be first to cast a stone,
Such ridicule and torment is a thing that I accept,
For there is not a way I can atone.

Four men standing in a row and then one laid across,
Just four men and the one who holds them tight,
Which binds me in this prison for a life and then a day,
And nothing I can do will make it right.

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Maureen McGreavy Pigeon Tart March 4, 2017 at 5:09 PM A brilliant and intriguing write! 7 and a fave Maureen McGreavy Pigeon Tart March 4, 2017 at 8:52 PM Lol awesome! My first read through it was a literal prison, but I read through the "bars" to subsequently decide it need not be, it was a metaphysical prison, and a fantastically creative one to boot. What ever your intent, a fabulous fiction it is :) David Pekrul March 4, 2017 at 5:16 PM Thank you Maureen. Please know that this is only a work of fiction. My only brush with the law is two speeding tickets in 49 years of driving!