Friday, July 20, 2012

Tragic

A small man
A big plan

shoot at all
let them fall

play the joke
red hair stokes

booby trap the house
timid like a mouse

no one to love
wearing gloves

a mask and a gun
no where to run

once you are locked inside
no where to hide

You had the upper hand
but now where do you stand?

Was it all you had hoped?
obsessively roped

in by Satan. You were his pawn
or more like his spawn

diabolical schemes
loving their screams

but now they are at peace
but you.. your nightmares will not cease

It's only beginning. the guilt. the shame
This is for real.  It's not just a game.

It's not just a game..a tragic game
Things will never be the same..


3 comments:

Kathi said...

Did you write this? Horrible topic, but well done.

Jena said...

Yes. I wrote it. No reactions. I was processing the event in my own way.

Mrs. Parunak said...

I agree with Kathi. Horrible topic, but well done. It's amazing how art helps us process.