PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Under the shade of this old oak tree

I see the images of my youth

Playing carefree with my siblings

While my mother watches from the porch



Visions of leaving home on my life's quest

The wonders of seeing this beautiful country

While riding my old horse in the heat

Meeting many fleeting loves as I traveled



How clearly I see those I've joined

Riding in gangs of terror and shame

While performing such dastardly deeds

I try to rid them from my wandering mind



It is now I attempt to find forgiveness

Though I fear it is much to late

Disowned by my family for many a year

For crimes so many I can not count



I feel my last breeze across my face

Sitting on my trusted old steed

My hands tied behind my back

As I hear a slap on the rear of my horse



I feel the rope burn into my neck

Pulling me from my dear old friend

Falling and stopping short of the ground

Darkness consuming my thoughts as I die