The Story On Page 4.
Brackish night, a stench for breeze,
Enough to bring good men unease.
A yell, a shout, a woman’s’ scream
Satan’s smirk rips through the seams
In the alley, begging for her life,
While cocaine nostrils flare to life
Hold her down he sharply barks,
Hold her face, I’ll make my mark.
Another victim, does no one care?
Indifferent, frightened, no one dares.
I’m ready now, I stand straight, erect
My somber scowl is sharp, direct.
I move the can so they will turn
Their obscene bellies start to churn.
One shows a gun, his eyes bulge out
One grabs a knife, one starts to shout.
The girls’ wild eyes are saucers, too
What do they see when they see you?
A ferocious fight that lasts too long,
I must say one or two were strong.
For a single moment, I’d almost lost,
Redeemed by a left hook, a judo toss
Now they lie to roll and groan,
One deep breath, my eyes are stone.
I hear the rustle, the sirens sound
The law has finally come around.
“Who are you”: a tiny voice of fear.
“An angel from the dark, my dear.”
I smile faintly through this sturdy mask
I must stay composed in this harsh task
The shouts and footsteps pounding near.
You fool, move quick and disappear.
Head home to nurse and heal my bruises
Now on, such pain becomes my Muses.
Lock the mask and costume safe away.
For they might soon see another day.
WOMAN SAVED BY MASKED VIGILANTE.
THREE ARRESTED. POLICE BOTH CONCERNED AND MYSTIFIED.
PUBLIC WANTS TO KNOW: WHO IS THIS MASKED MARVEL?
My life will never be the same.
For now, true justice has…a name.
Copyright © Gerard Keogh Jr. | Year Posted 2009
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