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Scribe
Joe DiFrancesco
United States, PA, Philadelphia

Words: 197
Access: Public
Comments: 11

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My Murderer

I had a dream last night

That my murderer was born

Somewhere far away

Already lost and forlorn

 

It is an infant boy

Swaddled, oh so fragile

Who will one day take my life

When I'm old and not as agile

 

How many years will it be

Until that dreadful day will come

When I go out for a walk

And cross paths with this angry one

 

He doesn't even know me

And I guess he never will

But for reasons that elude me

It is I that he must kill

 

What will be his motive

That leads to my expiration

Money, drugs, hatred

Or just a street reputation

 

So I pray it will be quick

In hopes a skillful blow be struck

And just go on living

Until my murderer grows up 


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Comments  
santiagothor Comment by: santiagothor - 2007-12-01 04:19
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vivid imagery, a wonderful write/story, but dark and haunting...written in such few words. well done, scribe! santiagothor
ladylovelace Comment by: ladylovelace - 2007-10-26 00:07
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What a helpless feeling. Great poem.
gregoryhall Comment by: gregoryhall - 2007-06-27 07:26
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What an incredibly cool topic...dark, original and beyond haunting. I mean, what do you do? He's out there somewhere, in the most innocent of forms.

I say this all the time but here is one of the best examples...you painted completely vivid pictures and told a complete story in under 200 words. Simple. Direct. No extra ramblings. Just boom. Damn near perfect.
Delirium Comment by: Delirium - 2007-05-02 09:45
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i like the flow. i like the imagery. it kind of makes me think that your abortion is coming back to get you, not sure if thats what you were going for, if not feel free to use that idea. just one technical thing i would change the last line to say "until my murder has grown up"...try it out. just a suggestion. other wise i liked the flow a lot. ;-)
lolly Comment by: lolly - 2006-04-22 12:54
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wow. i have this knowing that i am going to be murdered for no apparent reason. the mystery will linger. it's going to suck though -- those last thoughts of my son, my mum.
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