The Mercenary
Just when you think memories die
They say your life flashes before your eyes
Silent nights
Scripts of peace in a new born life
Hunger in days
Taken back less for what poverty weighs
A couple visits to I-C-U
Now as a ghost I see you
Pain inhabits reflection
My anger and aggression
Smiles and faces
child’s and different races
In my final poem
I lay it down a mercenary
Look to heaven with no commentary
Double jeopardy
A sinner plagued with leprosy
Broken jewels
In hands of an innocent man
It's going to be a little blood shed
For the faces that weren't fed
Walk as mortals on the day of the dead
Even in God's hands there’s a little bloodshed
Copyright © Jerry Golden | Year Posted 2009
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