JaxGuy's blog: "Just some of my poetry"

It was the middle of the night

Or maybe even early morn

If I think on it sure to get it right

Either way they came without warn

One invaded my sleep

The others when I awoke

Was to scared to speak

And couldn't even look

Thought I had them caged

So how did they arrive

I knew each demon's face

The stories of my life

Tried not to see or hear

But they were too strong

Truth just too hard to bare

They've been with me all along

There was a girl

Her name was Suzy

When she was only twelve

Her daddy always beat her

And momma wasn't there

So she grew up in a life of hell

Now Robert is another

His life in the gutter

He thought that he had a plan

But got kicked out of school

For which he'd not recover

So he grew up a desperate man

How the two became friends

No one would ever know

But they were the only good thing they knew

She came home one day

Daddy wasn't breathing

She said Robert what did you do

He just stood there shaking

With knife in hand

He couldn't even make a sound

She said you need to stay focused

I'm gonna need your help

We gotta put him in the ground

No one knew the story

So the manhunt began

To put Robert in the chair

Thought he was a pervert

But he was just a friend

The only one who really cared

They found him one night

Outside by a shack

Loading up some firewood

He held up his hands

Wasn't going to fight

Sheriff thought he'd do the world some good

Twenty years later

Suzy's still a mess

She mourns for him every night

It's become to much to handle

So she lights two candles

And picks up the sharpened knife

So now the story's over

And ask just one question

What do you think you'd do

If you were just one side of a story

That nobody else knew

But everyone was pointing at you

So vibrant and young but frail

Oh to sip from the Holy Grail

So full of life and much cheer

She never shed a single tear

Now lying in her casket bed

Preacher recounting the life she led

A young boy too sad to hear

The young boy never shed a tear

But now old with much gray hair

He sits in the tombstone's chair

His first visit in all these years

Wishing he could shed one lone tear