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Tags: Dark


THIS IS A FICTIONAL POEM.


Submitted:Sep 9, 2007    Reads: 73    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


I committed murder and it bothers me everyday.

I killed over twenty people when I was with the CIA.

I was only doing my duty for my country but I still have their blood on my hands.

I try to go on with my life but as each day passes, it gets harder to stand.

The people who I killed were bad and perhaps they deserved what they got.

But if you're wondering if I'm happy about what I did, I am not.

The pain grew a little more when I took each life.

The agony has consumed my very soul and it even drove away my wife.

My marriage is ruined and my life is ruined as well.

I did my duty for the USA and now I live in hell.





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