How I long to be a noose

Not the bereaved body alone and loose

Decaying in the autumn air

Rotting the flesh from the bones

But the rope end itself

Clutching at the neck of this criminal cunt

Guilty of robbing a piece of gold

Or for killing tarts

 

The sense of authority and punishment

Would be grand for me

People would cower at the thought

Of dancing the Paddington frisk to a bloodthirsty pack

I would be the convict’s last thought

As their families watch

Praying for a clean death

For the lost soul on these deadly docks

 

There are drawbacks to this filthy fantasy

 

Over time I’d turn into a figure of hate

As hanging was rendered inhumane

People sought me out to alter their fate

I was seen as a chance for freedom

 

To those who would take their own

I would be the robber

Stealing away a naïve life

My knot being a powerful statement

Over any other thought

 

I wouldn’t be able to stop them

I wouldn’t be blamed or questioned

When they ask why they pulled the cord

I wouldn’t be able to speak up and reveal the victims suicide note

 

 

Instead of being the saviour of the innocent

Removing evil from the streets condemning convicts

I’m the punishment to the silent

The silencer of the quiet

 

But unlike them I can’t find a way out

Breaking the laws in a desperate plea for attention

Or ending their own life in a desperate yearn for attention

I’ll just be their get out clause

 

The noose loop might have been seen as a metaphor for judgement and punishment……..actually what am I talking about, it still is.