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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1815788-HIC-JACET-SEPULTOSMr-Kripold-Kackrowts
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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1815788
A poem of absolute nonsense
HIC JACET SEPULTOS, Mr. Kripold Kackrowts



And so Mr. Kripold Kackrowts with bandage on one leg
In his dull dark eyes where no tears flowed, begged
To permit his little life and not to leave him dead
Even after he scratched my feet and fled.


Those spiky little legs of lightning speed I never thought
Have dared raise the temerity to escape like a moth
But such foolish fear brought his own fall
When I never know he was there at all.


And so Mr. Kripold Kackrowts met his horrible fate
A single stomp and there Death awaits by his gate
Where no one knows when
Shall its dreadful hinges reopen


My sin to be washed by atonement
A tale for him to be written
With his death weighs heavy on my conscience
Nothing but to pray his soul in silence.


The crime pressed hard on my memories
Not a single detail was tarnished
The echoing cries for his sudden departure
Is my malady not even Apollo can cure.


A little brown lump of broken wings
Was glaring at me by the sink where he clings
Probing his way at my feet by a wriggling antennae
A minute touch and blasted me off without delay.


It was a crime I never plotted
“Off you go,” my clock demanded
My brain forgot his usual system check
To even consider that little life trifling as a speck.


The pitiful creature thrashed and panicked
His multiple legs gnashing and frantic
Its shameful features flipped and displayed
That thumb-long body I never spared.


I tossed him by the tip of my loafer
But off he stood like a belligerent fighter
As a Roman gladiator, torn and crippled
So did the injured little Mr. Kripold.


And off he went for a counterassault
His nearing distance gave me a jolt.
But most daring of all—
He did a land somersault.


A single stomp and off he goes
To the realm of the dead everyone knows
An intensely warm home, nobody wants to dwell
But at its door, everyone fell.


And so the grievous crime had been written,
A wish for my sin to be forgiven
For I have killed an innocent crippled cockroach
Hic Jacet Sepultos, Mr. Kripold Kackrowts.
© Copyright 2011 MarkLewis ~ a mirage (marklewis at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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