Frank F. Atanacio Poet Dramatic Verse

Through All This Invisibility

His eyes were on the suspect,
as often as they were on the body,
he was the first on the scene,
and it felt like a very bad dream,
the suspect’s expression was that of the insane,
he shot the man in the chest,
and shot himself accidently, just the same,
he bleeds though, while the other dies,
self defense first, or insanity he’ll try,
he would with an occasional muttered word,
and with little voices in his head that he heard,
express remorse,
he was caught at the crime scene,
keeping that in mind of course,
the shot was real, but the reasons lay hidden,
in the dead man’s mind,
as life faded,
 and death shaded
the truth.
The policeman shuddered,
because a crime took place,
and now he’s dealing with a poker face,
as the insanity card would sure be played,
only if life hadn’t fluttered,
and life would have stayed,
now he’s stuck with a crime,
and he’s running out of time,
but  he should have been more commanding,
 demanding,
or he would not have been standing,
over this sudden tranquility,
now everything is lost,
through all this invisibility.

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Donna Golden January 24, 2009 at 3:05 PM I see a crime novel here in your writing....or an update of the Crucible. Very curious, indeed. Nice work, Frank.

Laurie Ginn January 23, 2009 at 1:25 PM As I was reading this I wondered if your job was some sort of investigator but Ive decided you probably do something sweet like teach kindergarten and need to visit the dark side. You do dark very well Frank. Laurie