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Rated: E · Poetry · Adult · #1875733
A weird metaphor of sorts about being forced in many ways.

-I Died For This Day-
by
Keaton Foster

*Vignette5* *Vignette5* *Vignette5* *Vignette5* *Vignette5*


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.

© Copyright 2012 Keaton Foster: Know My Hell! (keatonfoster at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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