Topic: Blurred Private Hell
A lady I know told me about a murder and the two people involved. One of them is her sister and the other her brother in-law. Here is my poem about what she told me.
Blurred Private Hell
Sometimes he has an image in his head of how he wants things to be.
It’s quiet a clear picture inside his head.
Somehow, he hasn’t got the courage to put it all together and show it to the world.
He has a way of pointing out peoples faults and humiliating them while maintaining his own sense of false power and control which is not too endearing.
He wants something but he’s not prepared to do it for himself.
All he presents is a blurred picture in the hope that someone else will make it stronger for him.
All it Is.
Is a blurred image which comes out as blurred memories.
Nothing that you can clearly see.
Somewhere in there is a forest but you can’t see the trees.
You just can barely make out the road he wants to travel.
You know there is somewhere he wants to head to.
He hasn’t got the courage to colour it in for himself.
Is he being secretive?
Is he being private?
His better half.
She is a bulldozer on the streets of life.
Inside her tough exterior hides a hurt little girl.
His words cut her deep.
In the night in his sleep her gun comes out.
Fully loaded pointed at his sleeping head.
There is this loud explosion.