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Dark Poetry #4
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Boxing Up Bones
| Dark Poetry #4 |
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Boxing Up Bones |
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LynnFromCT Member
since 2008-02-18
Posts 53CT, USA |
y father works for a funeral home then comes home to play by night he is a madman, but is normal during the day When one of his victims dies, we need to find a replacement so he visits the underground to find someone to put in the basement My job is to sweep up then box the bones of the dead... then carry those boxes carefully and place them in his shed I hear them crying out "please turn on the light" I feel sorry for those locked up it gets real creepy here at night I'm squeamish of the shadows that scurry cross the floor and I hate those huge spiders, that barely fit beneath the door Pop visits the homeless offers them a meal & home Many of them are addicts that are just skin & bones This is where they come to die, to spend their last few hours Being eaten alive by scavengers, way down below Hell's towers THEN I SEE HIM AMD I SCREAM BECAUSE I REALIZE, THIS AIN'T NO DREAM Then Pop comes to take me to the room beneath the stairs I'm his own flesh & blood now this just isn't fair He's dragging me to the door, and putting me in that cell Locking me in the gateway, between Heaven and Hell Now just like the others, I'm chained to the wall how I got down here now I can barely recall I'd rather die real fast, but Dad's a cruel man I know he'll make me suffer for as long as he can I feel the patter of tiny feet, and knawing of skin & bones The pain turns my brain to mush, as my whimpers become moans. There'll be no help for us, we cannot even crawl away We will die in this room, before night turns to day What he doesn't know is... that I've slipped the chains so when he comes to feed us, I'm gonna smash his brains We got him on the floor, he's begging us to live after all we been through, he wants us to forgive A taste of his own medicine is what he will receive he's not that dad I remember I don't know what to believe We're chaining his body each limb to a separate peg his arms are pulled wide, and so are his legs We put together a noose, hung it from the ceiling wrapped his head with rope now his toes have no feeling When we left the room, he was saying his prayers we locked the door behind us, and walked back up the stairs |
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| © Copyright 2008 L.Ottanio - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Mystress May Member
since 2007-10-25
Posts 296Taunton, MA |
Very dark.... I enjoyed it but found it disturbing at the same time. |
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Seeker72 Member
since 2007-02-24
Posts 387Oregon USA |
I must agree. It was a poem that you found yourself disliking and falling in love with all at the same time. Quality work. |
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