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Array ( [sid] => 181808 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => you'll pay for your crimes [time] => 2015-09-17 02:12:44 [hometext] => [bodytext] => You told me not to run,
you said to stay
Your mission was to harm me
for my crimes I must pay

I stole a piece of bread
and scaled the wall to flee
I made it over the fence or,
so I thought happily

You were there waiting
on the other side
There was no where to go,
no where to hide

I dropped to the ground,
you arrested me on the spot
Told your gaurds to get their batons
this isn't what I've sought

They brutally did me justice
or so they thought
This isn't what I've lived for,
not what I've fought

They dragged me to the celler
in the underground
No cockroaches, flees
not even mice to be found

Kept me there for days,
weeks it seems
Saw a person sneak in,
must've been a dream

Told me to trust him
he'd get me outta there
Only thought I had,
was someone really cared

Carried me on his back
through a long winding hall
Gave me a piece of bread,
and sent me back up the wall [comments] => 3 [counter] => 163 [topic] => 48 [informant] => FireStarter [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )

you'll pay for your crimes

Contributed by FireStarter on Thursday, 17th September 2015 @ 02:12:44 AM in AEST
Topic: EmotionalPoetry

You told me not to run,
you said to stay
Your mission was to harm me
for my crimes I must pay

I stole a piece of bread
and scaled the wall to flee
I made it over the fence or,
so I thought happily

You were there waiting
on the other side
There was no where to go,
no where to hide

I dropped to the ground,
you arrested me on the spot
Told your gaurds to get their batons
this isn't what I've sought

They brutally did me justice
or so they thought
This isn't what I've lived for,
not what I've fought

They dragged me to the celler
in the underground
No cockroaches, flees
not even mice to be found

Kept me there for days,
weeks it seems
Saw a person sneak in,
must've been a dream

Told me to trust him
he'd get me outta there
Only thought I had,
was someone really cared

Carried me on his back
through a long winding hall
Gave me a piece of bread,
and sent me back up the wall

Copyright © FireStarter ... [ 2015-09-17 02:12:44]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: you'll pay for your crimes (User Rating: 1 )
by hauntedscorp on Friday, 18th September 2015 @ 10:23:19 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

This is an interesting read to me. While I don't fully understand all the metaphors (at least I hope they are metaphors), I do appreciate the overall message and feeling of hope and perseverance that it left me with.

Thanks for posting. I hope you're well. Keep up the writes.

~Scorp

Re: you'll pay for your crimes (User Rating: 1 )
by softerware on Saturday, 19th September 2015 @ 02:22:23 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

No good deed goes unpunished!
If no one catches us--we punish ourselves!

The conscious is a taskmaster, and as you point out, we cannot escape ourselves!
The only enemy who always finds us is within, and however long it takes, she can exact some mighty powerful revenge!

Vivid images here--hope it was a dream!
softerware

Re: you'll pay for your crimes (User Rating: 1 )
by Invierno on Saturday, 7th November 2015 @ 12:44:08 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

I'm interested to know what transgression you feel you've committed. I've seen this theme run through a number of your poems.

Is it a self-transgression? A crime residing on in the jury of your mind? Or, more rooted in the this world of solid reality we call 'waking life'.

After all, in what we call a 'dream'...it is THERE (for me at least) I've felt the strongest emotions and experienced a vividness not found in 'waking life'. So, then; what world is 'real'? Just because we spend more time in this 'waking world' does not, for me at least, stand as reason enough that THIS is real, and dreams are not. 'Dream' is simply a label.

I wrote a poem of similar exploration titled "Dreams More Alive Than Life"

Where is the tale today, lulled and pulled
from dreams more alive than life.
Would that daylight hours feel so real;
loss so tangible one can wrap it as a cloak-
happiness so intense,
a burbling brook of smiles and joy
made paler with dawns approach.
Where did I ere in this dimension,
to find street grime not as gritty,
eyes not as flowing, tears not as wet;
lemon seed poppy not so muffiny,
chocolate not my imaginings in fluffy cake;
how came dreams to me to be more of
life than open eyes
greeting what we call awake.

Invierno

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