I will put him to death,
The I that was me.
I'm digging him a grave,
in it he will soon be.
For we both cannot dwell,
in existence as one.
Six feet under he must go,
So I'll see the job done.
I shape the coffin to it's size,
preparing it to be filled.
When I lay him to rest,
His coffin will be sealed.
Into the ground he will go,
without a second thought.
Then what I've waited for,
The dirt finally to be tossed.
No grave stone I will place,
No last words to be said.
I will turn and walk away,
and leave the old man dead.
Written from Mayo Correctional Institution
No comments:
Post a Comment