Saturday 8 January 2011


This is another effort from the write-a-thon. The prompt was 'It's time' and as I wrote the poem, the nature of the story changed to one of a total and evil injustice. Having the brother as the murderous traitor adds to the injustice and sadness of a family, and community, torn apart by the prison warden's lies.

The Execution

Under ashes of lust, the chains lie limp at his side
All that’s left is the dust of the man too weak to hide.
Watchers’ fears smoulder, tears tumble, rage cries
As years swam by, broken lives lived under those lies.

The man standing by, watch in his hand
Dreamt of this day, now just as he’d planned.
Though brothers in life, they were species apart
Simplicity versus violence, a mother’s ruined heart.

Under the sack, crisped, choked, skin burnt black
Eyes popped of the lives he tried to save, way back
When no one listened or cared and they all lived in fear
Of him and his bottle, his badge coming near.

Fingers on the pulse, the crooked hour announced
Shuffles and shouts, years later, to be denounced.
The brother clasps his hands, smiles thin, face unkind,
Whispers; “What they believed, brother! Now is my time.”

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