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.

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