For Every Jailed Sorrow

 

                Hello little Huckster,

Are you begging fate with offerings of me?

Is not the bullpen that is life

Not quite the incarceration you seek?

Are you still skipping back and forth –

The dainty little flower;

Protesting just how frail you are

While secret with your power.

 

     Are you still upon this World,

Not stricken besides the feel of steel,

Is the keel haul surgery not the

Torture you require and,

Is the darkness of your features -

That shadow all the good;

Invisible in manifest

Peering for reflections;  

Upon each living soul.

 

                Keep within your realms

The innocent for baiting so the innocent

Become your guilt,

And watch upon your blood-loss –

The end of passing time,

See the all that’s ripping you

And feel it all again,

And wish and wish and wish and wish,

Wish the world to cease,

       See it all, see all you’ve done

And know within my kindest forms

Of fortitude that I may upon

My quarrel – let you live,

So you can dream till end of time

Each victim that you bled,

And when you find you’re all alone,

I’ll read like distant echo for the hell

You gave,

     Whence you’ll realize

With clarity,

You’re never going home.

 

Michael J Waite 20^th January 2012.