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What We Keep Inside

Poetry By: xxImmortalDeathxx

I wrote this a while back for my father, who died almost 3 years a go with cause of the sins of life. I imagine life sometimes bites you a little hard in the behind. An old friend of mine once told me that it hit him so hard he almost fell over. So I hope my poem hits some of you in a way you'll never forget, a positive way is my hope, even though the poem is the exact opposite. Try to look outside the box and not to concentrate so much on the words.

Submitted:Feb 22, 2013    Reads: 2    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

The night fell down around him like some mitigated rain,
With no attempt to shield his eyes from who was there to blame.
He wandered in from years ago when deeds were done in haste,
In overdrive he stayed alive without a glance to waste.
The air was charged with desperation deeply steeped with fear,
Knowing what might come to pass he'd cringe in time to hear.
Steel was flashed with no regret and yet assailants fled,
There's no excuses in the night when someone ends up dead.
Now justice is a dirty word when heard behind one's breath,
All the riches in the world are never worth one death,
Self defense is self abuse when no one ever listens,
Time becomes a molten mist as guilty eyes do glisten.
He faced the shadows in his world armed only with his hate,
Trapped by all he feared would be his final granite fate,
His name was signed in rented blood upon the streets he walked,
He slipped between the streetlights sheen where no one ever talked.
Two eyes peered out from just behind the refuse bin ahead,
Paths are sometimes where he'd been and not just where they led,
Confrontations wear their pleas in shades of what's to lose,
Nothing's ever up for grabs until it's time to choose.
The eyes became to blame for seeing how the scuffle went,
He'd bought his way towards destiny instead of paying rent.
Tragic in the casualty when no one's left to blame,
He kicked aside his foolish pride from where his courage came.
The street erupted with intent that lent the night a scream,
He shook his head then flipped him off and fled the grisly scene,
He ran as though each foot on fire from what he left behind,
Afraid to check the evidence now etched upon his mind.
His life had turned to on the run although no place could be,
Safe from where he could forget the cold insanity
He placed upon the tainted street that night he chose to run,
Regret is when you understand there's nothing to be done.
He managed to evade the blame at least upon that night,
But yet he'd never escape himself or forget that deadly sight,
The darkness was his jailor, the dawn his judge and jury,
Defense objected to the facts amid the frantic flurry
Of how the rage was simply staged to cover up the pain,
That some forget can wash away the mitigated rain,
But when the streets remember how that life and death are done,
There are no feet quite fast enough, when there's nowhere one can run.
So if you hear the madness that surrounds the nightmared end,
Remember chances you might take are things you just can't mend.
He learned it well because he found one never can forget,
What we fear the most in life is bathed in deep regret.
And time seems fleeting innocent, while guilty lasts forever,
There is no in between it seems when facts deny just whether
What is done all on our own the darkness never hides,
We can't escape from what we know and what we keep inside...


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