Voice in the Dark

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Another look at what happens at the scene of a crime.

Submitted: May 17, 2018

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Submitted: May 17, 2018

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Voice in the Dark

Sirens echoed in the street as coherent

screams were recorded onto the concrete.

While the red and blue lights danced

In the morbed sight.

A body on the ground

heart not even beating a sound.

 

While the blood ran free

down the crowded street.

With people pushing on the

yellow tape to get a better look

as if a families loss

was like lining up for a concert.

People pushing and shoving to see

with news reporters and their armies.

 

And up above you can see

the balcony from where they jumped.

As you stare you begin to wonder

what would make a person take a single step

towards oblivion.

 

Was it the desire to feel like a bird does

in the spring?

Or maybe to feel like a leaf in the fall;

weightless in the wind?

Perhaps to feel the weight of the world

lift right off their shoulders?

 

And soon you see an adult being escorted

out of the home

wearing two metal rings around his wrists

a symbol of his new marriage to the institute.

Few moments pass and a doe eyed child walks

out the same door two parents shorter than before.

And a cop shields his eyes as they walk past

His mother who is now being but in a bodybag.

And on his shoulders are the black straps

of his bag.

Which is full of stories he loves to fall asleep to.

And in his hands you notice a stuffed bear

one of brown fur and black beads for eyes.

And he brings it closer to his chest

and holds on for dear life.

Because he’s scared he’s going

to lose everything he holds dear in one night.

 

And his eyes begin to wander to his father.

Who is sitting in the back of a cop car

with tears slowly streaming down his face.

But no remorse in his eyes.

As the car pulls away.

And the dance of flashing lights ends

all the while the record is done and recorded.

With the only sound being that of the concert goers

Leaving, complaining about how they didn’t even

get to know what transpired.

 


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