I lay on my back

With the walls all gray around me

I could see the stars

Thro’ the bars of my window

The door opened as a man walks in

And led me roughly by my frail hand

The people stood watching and waiting

I bent my head and heard

The sound of a blade being sharpened

I heard a cry

As the blade was laid to its hold

The people jeered as I had my moment of regret

Then the fog closed around my vision

And I heard no more….


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  1. #1 by Atticus on May 30, 2010 - 3:41 PM

    Wow! Those were incredibly moving words.

    It evoked feelings of sorrow and sadness, of those unpardonable acts of so-called ‘honour-killings’ that are the scourge of certain cultures and societies.

    It reminded me of this:

    I’m not sure if that’s what was being narrated but your poem regardless opens the conscience of every reader in a powerful way.

    Keep up the good work!

    • #2 by hoiden on May 31, 2010 - 1:28 AM

      thank u for reading :)i based this poem on the french war where royals were guillotined…:)

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