A Letter To My Father's Murderer
Although this is torture at best
I often try to make it real in my head
the way you would have looked over his chest
watching the life drain from him as he bled
your heart racing while his had stopped
the room falling silent as his body dropped
were you shaking with panic or even remorse
while you made up a story and handled a corpse
did he shed a tear, or go out all too slow?
I shouldn't be wondering but I just need to know
does he ever cross the bridge of your mind
does he haunt your dreams the way you haunt mine?
the life that was robbed was the father of two
much like another, a father being you
but your girls were so little, you see
when you robbed their innocence
the same way you did with me
a beautiful life was stolen and you get to walk free
Copyright © Hanna Bachus | Year Posted 2019
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