Dead Man's Walk
Macabre Poetry CollectionHe swaggers through the crowd
A look of listlessness on his face
People passing by are ignorant,
The stain on his jacket miniscule
He grimaces holding his left hand in his right
Someone turns, noticing, yet walking away
Not caring enough to stop and inquire
He continues to walk
The stain on his jacket larger now
He turns down a side street
He picks up his pace, gradually
Now frantically running to the river
People curse at him as he pushes them aside
Their anger clouding their brains
Blocking the mental register of the large stain
The stain is soaking his jacket
Making it so heavy and burdensome
Yet he keeps it on
He reaches the river, falling on his knees
He gazes towards the river
Everything is serene, unbothered
He wondered if he could be a part of this senerity in his final moments
So he lifted himself from the ground and clutched his chest
Feeling the wetness of his jacket
And he became one with the river
Staining it's surface red
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