The risk added excitement at the time,
Admittedly a conscious decision was made to commit a crime.
Not yielding to ethical thought,
Reluctant to believe that the transgression would be caught.
Self-assured I say ....weep not.
Disjoining, conviction, and separation of family,
Sustaining the ability to hold on to sanity.
Not inclined to allow the flowage to over run,
Conceding to the occurrence; as the moon to the sun.
Ambiguously I say ...weep not.
Stepping into a cement six by six,
The grey and white walls suffocating, as my eyes become fixed.
Stretching out on a narrow bank, hands cradling my head,
Paralyzed with deep immersed reflection of pending dread.
Actuality I say ...weep not.
Releasing feelings of being maltreated after death,
The seasonal matter has been put to rest.
A moral discretion occurred but I am still alive,
To conquer over an erroneous deviation, I thrive.
Subsequently I say ...weep not.
@ Tunisia Torres
Copyright © Nacita Torres | Year Posted 2009
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