Her independence deferred
History wipe, silenced in denial
Component of family unit secure
Current form stands as emblem
Entirety kindly quiet unheard
Cleansed of horror occured
Corpses buried won't stand trial
Heinous parade she could endure
Hosts pretense without problem
Outline dent, identity blurred
Safe matriarch role preferred
Sedating sandarac sent via smile
Dizzying aphrodisiac calamine cure
Disarming smooth cabochon gem
Exhibits traits 1950's referred
Dissolved scrag, unburdened
Drama curtains pull closing titles
Screenplay prosperity props are pure
Scripted mid century holds them
Outcast character murdered
Eleventh of New Year Era
Poor Scrag!
My name is Scrag, I'm a homeless dog.
Smelly and dirty living in Old Briar's Bog.
I walk the streets during the day.
It hurts me when I hear people say.
Why that smelly dirty dog called Scrag
should be put down and put in a bag.
Then others say, he needs a good bath
and a home to take him in.
Someone who'll feed him,
love and take care of him.
Why old Scrag is harmless
I've never heard him growl.
But people stop and stare at him
and complain his odours foul.
Tony the local butcher took pity
and threw Scrag a bone.
He took him in and bathed him
and gave poor Scrag a home.
So Scrag goes no more
to Briars Bog.
Because Scrag is now
the butchers dog.
Well groomed and fed
and looks pristine.
I hear people say,
"Is that old Scrag?"
Some say,
"Why no! He's much too clean.
Life behind these bars
My recidivistic chained lounge;
I bonded with loneliness
At will - My frail wrist
Scarred by the bangle of guilt -
Chaste from birth but now guilty
"Death by the rope" - is
My price for dis-innocence
I embraced it well like wraith
Of though fear might flee
Justice will kill me tonight
And I'll whiff peace through my death
Bang!!! Off goes the bong
The call for my end i think;
Broody pangs aches me aloud
As the crowd barracks
Sully smile stained their faces
Spits, Sticks, sands and stones were thrown
Inside the foyer -
My doers came with blindfolds -
Glow of darkness beholds me,
Farewell my best friends;
Crickets, flies and mosquitos
I'd hear chirps and buzz no more
I'd be dead real soon
But no one knows my reason
For crime - no one ever cares!
Now, freedom will walk
To criminals' tomb for peace
Just for my son's sake
Defending my blood
Was all i did - Just a blow
On the chest and death took him..
For this single sake
I'll die so that i can live
The gallow awaits my scrag
O God,
I come before you bowing still
To trod
The wide valley through your will
Let me
Know your hand upon my string
Lift me
High where the bright falcons sing
O God,
Like a desert all my sands of sin
Unclad
Bare my barren scrag of soul
Fill me
Until I am healed and whole
Mill me
No more, I am sheep not gold
Feed me thy love, the valley is cold.
gaunted look in face and hand.
your just a bag of scrag and bone's.
with beady eye's to catch your fix.
and squatters right's you call your home.
your darkness fill's shadow's and corner's.
as you lurch from standing grave's.
to cast us beneath your addict's cloud.
industrial damp brick's your enclave.
you lost your mind to needle and spoon.
your powdered soul is dead of thought.
vein's pump scum to a merciless heart.
where more of the same is all's your taught.
you ghost bye night in swarms of bone pressed skin.
all set up for one more dig.
your near corpse body is pale and thin.
with the look of a malnutritioned kid.
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