Revolution

Revolution prose poem

Photo by spratmackrel

Falling from the sky our memories of pain,
the time you cried and fought for freedom,
independence from me, the one who raised you cared and loved you,
you meant so much, now I understand my past mistakes,
standing here, my tears mixing with the rain and my cries mixing with thunder,
surely the gods are punishing me with abandonment as they turn there back,
pain as the blade slits my flesh,
guilt for making them suffer,
anger that they left me when I needed them,
sadness the past still haunting me,
as I walk alone I say to my self
” there is no hope for mankind is there?,
no hope,NO HOPE,” I repeated wailing like a madman,
as I walk to my noose, my reaper,
with despair, the sadness driving me insane
I think “none will miss me,none will care.”
As I took my last breath,
the boy he rose and loved discovered his body,
he screamed “WHY, WHY,you IDIOT,that didn’t solve anything
it stopped your pain, but now you’ve cast it onto me
and the others that were there for you,WHY,YOU IDIOT,WHY?”
The boy laid on his knees looking at his caretaker and friend hung limp,
his neck snapped, blood trickling out of his mouth.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of
avatar
wpDiscuz

Revolution

Revolution short poem

Riveted: the ducks went into a howl. A shirtless moon was walking on the lake. Darts had started moving towards blue lips. Gale was not able to speak. Unthinkable: sky will explode now, in stars. Gambling with water, cheating the

Evolution Revolution New World Order.

Evolution Revolution New World Order. prose poem

Global revolution is in the air. Not militarily, but technologically. It will be no less disruptive to world order, in fact it will be many magnitudes more. Technology tsunamis will churn across the globe and back again,washing away the old

Road to Revolution

Road to Revolution prose poem

I was on the road to revolution; when I met- The childless mother beating her chest in sorrow, the widow shredding tears of solitude, The motherless child crying for company, the father who had lost his son… For the road