He left the house in disarray
When cautioned flew into a rage,
A brat he was who got his way
This lad was spoilt from a young age.
When cautioned flew into a rage
And uttered words best left unsaid;
The mother cried and tears were shed.
A brat he was who got his way
And treated all with disrespect
His bad behaviour went unchecked.
This lad was spoilt from a young age
But then one day he went too far
He died in mangled stolen car.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
They laid her in a tomb, only the bagpiper and I.
The Scotsman, with his pipes, played a dreary dirge,
I stood tall, no tears just intense anger.
A haggard breeze flowed around the verdant trees,
Ruffling the dreary flowers that adorned her tomb.
A hit and run: Dead on the spot.
A mad drug addicted driver who killed my lovely wife.
How can I forgive? She was my love.
Thoughts ran amok in my head.
No tears, just revenge.
Seething with anger I bought a pistol.
I searched for him in his stuffy cabin.
Found him in stupor on his smelly single bed.
Took out my weapon, checked bullets.
The smell in that cabin made my stomach lurch.
Could I kill him in cold blood?
Vengeance is mine, said the Lord.
Angrily, I left and threw the gun in a deep lake.
I could only hold back my tears.
17 August 2021
Holding Back Tears
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
I cross the street at the crosswalk I hear someone shouting, STOP!!!
LOOK OUT!
A CAR IS COMING.
10/23/30
written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
Hit
and run
elephant
chasing me now.
How fast can an angry elephant run?
along the edge
of the hustle
and bustle
of the highway
stands a set
of weathered steps
that break
at the horizon's fold
visions burn
within the dawn
of memories
in crimson pools
atop the steps
as i recall
more youthful days
a rush of sirens
beneath the hush
of october's dusk
with sanguine flashes
against the old stone home
its black and white
beaming back
in blurs
through misty air
where rain mingled
with tears
from the corners
of my eyes
as they still seep
within the lingering
of old memories
from fourty years
gone past
(i was hit by a hit and run driver 2 days after my sweet 16, the anniversary of that date is approaching and still haunts my mind , as i wonder how anyone could leave innocence for dead... last year i had to stop my bus just feet away from that spot, twice daily, this year i avoided that bus because i didn't want to relive the memory daily)
It pours out of her
A river flowing into a sea
This isn't salt mixing with water
This is liquid mixed with cement
And it turns from pouring to drips
Thick and firm with time
Time.........this is time's fault
If it hadn't taken long to show her the truth
Truth..........this is truth's fault
If it hadn't taken long to reveal itself
Me.........this is my fault
I was busy living with a clouded mind
So optimistic always looking on the bright side
Why isn't there any bright side now?
Darkness........The absence of light
There is no sun, no light, no bright side
As my blood kiss the cement
They become more acquainted
Life slip from my grasps
And I take my final breath
My skin loses color
I whisper the words I was to fearful to say
"I do and I love you"
Then I awake
Detective Fred he said:
Tell me Darren, tell me son, you understand the deed you done, you killed a man and fled the scene like a snoop **** dog with it’s tail between.
Dozy Darren, he replied:
I did know the man was slain, if I could go back, in time again, I would not drove, like I had done, I was only having fun.
Detective Fred he said:
If you call slain, having fun, you better think again my son, if you call fun, creating mess, your dafter than I thought, I guess.
Dozy Darren, he replied:
I did not mean to kill that man, please tell his mum, I am sorry, yes I am, I ran away, cos my head was bashed and my old man’s car I had smashed
Detective Fred he said:
Darren, Darren, what do we do, what do we do with kids like you, you kill and maim and run away, home to bed and another day. The mess that you did leave behind, will stay with a family a long long time and in a week you will be on the street, high fiving the old mates you will meet.
Dozy Darren, he replied:
Sorry, I won’t do it again.
EMOTIVE WRITE
I never had the chance to meet my Mummy
She was killed in an accident … they couldn’t save her
Hit and run that’s what Daddy says
Daddy cries when he talks to me about her
I never had the chance to meet my Mummy
She died from her injuries
The doctors did an operation and saved me
Daddy cries when he talks to me about her
I never had the chance to meet my Mummy
Daddy shows me lots of photographs of her
He says that I am beautiful like she was
Daddy cries when he talks to me about her
Every day Daddy takes me to visit Mummy
He said she is asleep with the angels
I wish I could cuddle Mummy in her bed
Daddy cries when he talks to me about her
Words Drowned in tears contest
Sponsored by Broken Wings
10~18~16
Hit and run
Crowd on road
Siren of an ambulance
Hue and cry.......
A speeding car that hit,
and poor man died
on the spot,
Rather than a rescue
or offering a help,
The driver chose to run.
Lifeless body
Amidst pool of blood
As if in deep sleep........
Blame who ?
Disrespect for life,
Irreverent attitude,
Inhuman behaviour,
What if someone else ran
After hitting his own dears ?
Introspection
Till justice prevails
Mankind hails.........
Written August 2nd, 2015
For contest "Haibun" by
Scott thirtyseven
met a new face
could be any place
the feeling is hot
and you sweat a lot
whats next
the boby won't get
your wet
its
HIT AND RUN SEX
When you think about it,
it goes way back--
this tempting sweet rejection
of regret, this ever-coveted
capacity to scream at circumstance,
"Oh no, it didn't happen.
I can outrun this now,
before it plants itself into reality."
...and then this devious marathon
has one more trick to play,
and slyly moves the finish line
away.
Such thinking tempers righteous outrage
just a bit. Perhaps we might just
muster up some understanding
of the other guy who could be us.
He's frightened. We do not know
the degree of his financial desperation.
Perhaps any effort to punish or
recover loss must fade to second choice,
for one alternative we dare not lose,
that precious gift and requisite--
our humanity.
~
this not about love
or someone you think off
its getting it off
mabe in your loft
just have some fun
mabe am sunforgun
to me
its
HIT AND RUN
A hit and run
A masquerade
It's just my lot now to be played.
A little daft
A bit too large
Never one to just take charge.
Way too kind
And silent too
Perfectly convenient for passing through
Go ahead
Try it out
This girl feels pain but she won't shout
Hit and run
Have some fun
Don't look behind you when you're done.
In the brain of a maniac
There lives a small child
Soiled and hungry
With a die and jack
And a thimble that rumbles
He left his leg in Seattle
On a bridge in the rain
Down low on the mainstream
Down low in the water
Swings a rope made of hemp
And twigs for a ladder
The place it must seem
Is for a murders row
But he’s harmed no one
Not even himself
The days go by
And they fade into dark
Murky and scary
Filled with lizards and larks
And a muddy old watch
Time is of the essence
As he boils his roots
Of sassafras and basil
And slips off his boots
Found on the subway
He only needs one
Because he left his left leg in Seattle
After being a hit and run.
I hit a child with my truck while he was riding his bike.
Unless you've experienced this, you don't know what it's like.
I should've got him some help but instead I hit the accelerator.
The severity of what I did didn't sink in until several hours later.
Sadly that poor boy died later that day.
The guilt has haunted me since he passed away.
I cut that boy down who was as precious as a flower.
I committed hit and run and that makes me a coward.
His family is suffering because of what I've put them through.
I hope and pray that this experience never happens to you.
I know that I'm doomed to pay for my horrible sin.
I can't bring that boy back but I can turn myself in.
What I did was horrific, I had a lot of nerve.
Now I'll rot in jail and that's what I deserve.
(THIS IS A FICTIONAL POEM.)
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