A weird metaphor of sorts about being forced in many ways. |
-I Died For This Day- by Keaton Foster Legions of people Strangers not known to me Standing in rows of many All waiting to pay their respect All touched by something expressed All changed in ways confessed They are sure that they owe me something Certainly they do not Just days before now I was most alive Living in what I was sure Was my own personal hell Alone in a cage, unfit for such an animal They said that I did terrible things And that I would be punished I assured them that I had already been They cared none for my spoken words Because when they looked at me All that they saw was the victims created And not the man who reacted Those hurt most of all by me Gave me no other chance I may have pulled the trigger But they put the gun into my hand Such a point now seems moot With ease I lifted the burden from the souls Of those meant to carry out my punishment Just as I had lifted it from those I stood accused of hurting in such grievous ways I made a noose, woven tight, unbreakable From a height of only feet I fell There was no snap, no instant break Instead I slowly strangled myself to death Instead I died as I had always lived Piece by piece and bit by bit I died for this day In such a tedious way When I was alive I was sure That no one would come In death, I was certain they would… I Died For This Day Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2012. |