The Killer In Wait
He's been dizzied by the changes
through which night and day revolve,
His heart's been captured by conflicts
nobody dares to resolve.
Has looked upon that well lit path
which would lead him to the truth,
Yet lives amongst the shadows held
in a disappearing youth.
There are sins within his conscience
that he has never denied,
And sermons by much younger fools
are now harder to abide.
The winds of change seem to shift
much too fast for aging eyes,
Has chained himself to memories
on which his life now relies.
Has always wondered about love
though he's never felt its touch,
Can't recall a mother's embrace
or a young girl's awkward clutch.
There's no one in this old folks home
that can understand his pain,
And no one here can realize
what's coming with tonight's rain.
An broken wheelchair by the wall,
he sits lifeless in the seat,
One shotgun and two forty-fives
now lay silent at his feet.
At the end of the body count
they said they found thirty four,
Had he been twenty years more young,
might have got a whole lot more.
Copyright © Daniel Larson | Year Posted 2012
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