%23 %23life %23suffering %23sadness %23pain

Not so colorful

I'm black inside..

Or is it dark blue

Because of who? 

I'm all the colours  because of you.. 

I'm always red when you act stupid and bad.. I'm totally blue when my tears fall so hard.. 

 

I'm gray when something's off.. 

I'm yellow when I'm sick of you.. 

Now its night.. Now its dark.. Who said that white is the opposite of dark 

This world is not always sleek and clean it has every ccolor in the colour domain .. 

 

Its dark black now.. Where all the colours are to blume .. 

I feel them all I'm red and yellow and black and blue... 

 

If I l die now? .. Will it make u happy.. I know you'll invent a colour for that.. Like you always do.. 

 

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The Days of Destruction

                                   The Days of Destruction 

                                                                                                      7/20/16
 
                  With all their Telescopes, Technology  
                              And *AMAZING* Eyes
                       N.A.S.A never even saw it coming
                When Two Worlds Collided on Planet Earth
 
But, there is a secret..... 
                                     Whose mere revelation 
                                      Would cause a Fallout
                          That would destroy Life beyond belief 
 
 
                       Lord God, help us all.....It's gonna be BAD 
                       And I don't know how we'll survive it all
 
                                                                                ©Mirror_rorriM_2016 

And So We Danced

 

 

      And So We Danced......

 

Dear Death   

                      For decades now, you and I seem to have been on a parallel path. Regardless where in the world I was found. You were always hovering close by, like a damn vulture.
 
Whether the sun was shining brightly, or the storm clouds raged and bellowed, you were there whispering your lies in my ears. Unlike a fair and righteous man, you always waited until I was down to attack. Too much of a punk to face me, yet I held onto Life, sometimes by the skin of my teeth.
 
Like a disease that goes into remission, then returns with a vengeance, over and over again, you hovered, 'Til my resistance, strength, and sanity was depleted.
 
And then, you and I danced one fateful night. You led, and like a lamb, I followed, too weak to resist. I was in great pains, and mental anguish, and felt my grip loosening.
 
And So We Danced
 
 
©Mirror_rorriM_2013

And So We Danced...

And So We Danced...
 
 

Dear Death:


                      For decades now, you and I seem to have been on a parallel path. Regardless where in the world I was found, you were always hovering close by, like a damn vulture.
 
Whether the sun was shining brightly, or the storm clouds raged and bellowed, you were there whispering your lies in my ears. Unlike a fair and righteous man, you always waited until I was down to attack. Too much of a punk to face me, yet I held onto Life, sometimes by the skin of my teeth.
 
Like a disease that goes into remission, then returns with a vengeance, over and over again, you hovered, 'Til my resistance, strength, and sanity was depleted.
 
And then, you and I danced one fateful night. You led, and like a lamb, I followed, too weak to resist. I was in great pains, and mental anguish, and felt my grip loosening.
 
And So We Danced
 
 
©Mirror_rorriM_2013

The Quiet Death of a Nobody

                                    "The Quiet Death of a Nobody"                  10/30/15           

 
              A Stream-of-Consciousness Requiem 
 
 
 "When the music's over  
  When the music's over 
  When the music's over 
 
  Turn out the lights 
  Turn out the lights
  Turn out the lights
 
  For the music is your special friend
  Dance on fire as it intends
  Music is your only friend
 
     Until the End
     Until the End"
 
©Jim Morrison, The Doors
 
 
                  
                  It was on this date that "Rob" H went to meet his beloved maker. But please don't pity him, he wouldn't want that.
 
He passed quietly in his sleep, but really, it was his "Heart" that gave out.
 
Truth be told, he'd died many years before, but his body remained alive. 
 
He is survived by his Lovely Wife/BFF Rachel, their pets, Mischa, Brutus, Muffin, and Kit, along with a few True friends, and Children/Grand Children whom he had the Utmost Respect, and Love for.
 
He lived through a violent, abusive, volatile, adolescent upbringing, and was basically "invisible", a nobody. Not even a blip on the radar. 
 
His family moved every year, never building lasting friendships, or roots, or having anyone to trust, or to encourage him to believe in himself. Often he wished his world would just stop spinning, so he could have, and keep a friend.
 
He never accomplished anything worthwhile in his life. He never bought a brand new car, or house on his own. He never did anything of note.
 
He just existed.
 
Rob enlisted in the Armed Forces at age 19, in 1981, to faithfully serve his country until 1985. Afterwards, he lived the life of a blue collar bum, because that's all he could see himself as. 
 
He was just a Bum, a Worthless Person. 
 
Not many people knew that, but He Did, all too well. He smiled all the time in public, and always had a kind, compassionate word for those suffering, or in need.
 
And he helped as many as he could along the way, in whatever way he was able, and yet even that did little to help his self esteem.
 
But behind closed doors, the smile was gone, there was no one there to hide his pains and failures from, just the overwhelming darkness waiting for him.
 
Shame and Failure were his constant companions, because he isolated himself, and alienated the very ones he loved. He thought he was protecting them. He was Wrong.
 
He wasn't very much fun to be around for very long. The results of the various pains, and injuries he endured daily for 25 years were Hard for others to watch, and he Knew it, Gregg Allman knew it. 
 
By Choice, he became a Recluse. 
 
His pride took a beating every time he disappointed his wife with his inability to live any type of lifestyle, and provide for her, in the way he secretly wished he could. 
 
Eventually, he turned that disappointment inward, Beating, and Berating himself More Brutally than his step father had so often done.
 
He could have been Anything, Anyone. Turns out he was smart enough, but he chose to leave this life with a legacy of strings of Failures. 
 
Parental brainwashing at an early age can be a dangerous nemesis, and an Unbearable Demon to overcome. Millions of "others" overcame such tragedies, but Not him.
 
He adored Words and Music, and relentlessly practiced guitar as a teenager, Hoping and Dreaming of "Making Something" of himself, but allowed himself to believe he'd Never be Anything, because that's what his "Family" conveyed to him. 
 
Besides a career in Music, he also dreamt of a career as a concert photographer, and worked locally on his portfolio for years.
 
But after a series of disabling, work-related injuries over the years, he "retired" early, after only 26 years in the work force, barely functioning, and barely living. 
 
He was the Black Sheep, the Disappointment, though he was never arrested, or involved in illicit behavior. He walked a straight line, but to his "parents" that wasn't good enough either. 
 
Even the fact that he was the First Person in his Family to Graduate High School didn't suffice. His mother never attended his graduation.
 
His favorite lyric, a chorus from the Goo Goo Dolls song "Iris" stated:
 
"And I don't want the world to see me
 'Cos I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am..."
 
He was a Dreamer. A Oaradox. An Enigma, buried within a Mystery, stuffed into a box in the closet, and then dumped inside a Deep Dark Hole he chose to live in, Irreparably Broken. 
 
A Lost and Damaged Soul. That was his "Normal", and the "Known", is always easier to handle than the Unknown, no matter how bad the "Known" is.
 
There will be no funeral, What's the point?  
 
Just a "poor man's" disposal of ashes. A Potters Field in the wind.
 
Very Few Cared, because he didn't make it easy to care, being Frightfully Shy, and keeping many at arms length. 
 
Perhaps he was Afraid of Infecting those he Cared for, with his Disease of Failures. Maybe that was his way of Showing his Love....his Way of saying..."Don't Be Like Me".
 
But for all his failures, he Loved, he Cared, and he Hurt Deeply when others Hurt, More than he Ever let on, whether Human or Animal. 
 
He gave as many Honest, Caring, Encouraging words to people, both young and old, as he Knew to give. Anything so they wouldn't have to suffer the Hell he allowed to rule his own life, the Hell that refused to turn him loose. 
 
Anything to "Break the Cycle", Anything to Leave this World a bit Better.
 
That was perhaps the Only thing he succeeded at, Never Physically, Mentally, or Verbally Abusing Anyone the way he had been. 
 
He loved Animals, but even There he Failed. One summer, he fostered a sick black lab back to health. 
 
He loved her, fed and watered her, bathed and medicated her, curled up, and slept with her at night, and when it was stormy, he talked soothingly to her, loved on her, and helped calm her down. 
 
A couple months ago, she was in the clinic, with her new family, and she tried to Attack him. Everything he Touched fell to pieces.
 
The same story with his recent "Rescue". He gave his whole heart, time, and care to, and in the end, this dog is being put to "sleep". Yet one more failure to add to the rapidly growing heap. 
 
Like the oft-seen statue of "Atlas" Struggling to carry the weight of the World on his shoulders, but never being able to stand up, so it was for Rob. 
 
Struggling to balance the weight of no longer being a "man", along with his failures, financial inadequacies, shame, and broken heart. 
 
A Perfect Loser. 
 
He Wasted his Life.
 
I know Rob was tired. 
 
Tired of the never ending, Never controlled physical pain that dominated his life, that he often Thanked God for, simply because the Bible says "In Everything Give Thanks". 
 
Tired of pain-filled sleepless nights.
 
Tired of living in a world where street thugs stage a home invasion, and happily take turns raping a 78 year old woman. 
 
Tired of evil. 
 
Tired of waking up every morning. 
 
Tired of being afraid to go to sleep, for all the nightmares that haunted and terrified him. 
 
Tired of his own failures, and the ghosts of shame, and mental illness that haunted him, beating him down when he was at his lowest points.
 
In the end, I think he "Drowned" in all the Tears he couldn't shed, for a world so cruel, and for those suffered and succumbed to it. 
 
May God have Mercy on his soul.
And may his soul find the rest he long dreamt of.
 
©Mirror_rorriM_2016

Words and Music

                  Words and Music      

   
                   I knew a man        
               A man of mystery
        A man of many questions
       A man of Words and Music

     He looked much like each of us
   Yet his feathers were a little fuller
        His colors, a little brighter
          His pain, a little deeper
He was special, and everyone knew it
         Everyone.....except him

              He had this....gift 
      Of taking a story, or a piece of music
And extrapolating the answers to life's mysteries
     He did it as none I had ever known
             Because he lived it

       You see, his mind was a vast library
       Filled with all the beautiful things
      Words and Music had to offer
        His knowledge and passion
         Amazed all who knew him
      Few secrets were hid from him
         Because this was his Home

    In the early days, when life was good
   Words and Music became his closest friends
   They made the good days more enjoyable
   They made the not-so-good days.....tolerable

         Then the skies clouded over
  The brightness of his Starr still shone
                    But, not to him.

    The Abuser began to change how he saw himself.
   As the beatings increased, so did his excursions.
   When leather kissed his flesh, he hid himself
            Inside of a favorite song

         Trembling with fear, while waiting
       For the melodies to comfort his soul
     Waiting...for the storms to pass him by
    Locking the secrets away with his friends
                   Words and Music

                    Puberty set in, then
           Jealousy reared it's ugly head
              On Johnny-Come-Lately

        Whose colors were just a bit brighter
        Who hid his torments behind a smile
                A smile that could lift you 
                  From the depths of despair
                But could do little for his own

             He lived his life as an outcast,
                Alone, ugly, and Unwanted
          But I saw his beauty, & felt his magic

            That certain quality, that belongs
         To a select few, only I...couldn't...reach him
                   I couldn't make him see
                     What was plain as day
                     To everyone he touched...
                      That he was special!

             We all knew it, but didn't treat him so
             We made fun of him, mocked his pain
                    And we added to his anguish

                       Time marches on...
             He stayed close to his friends
               Words and Music, and
            He wrote a great many things.

                 We laughed with him
             We rejoiced with him, and
                  We wept with him

            He'd brought a lifetime of pain
         And heartache, down to our levels
                 In his own unique way
           To help us see just how special
                       He really was

          We saw the true brightness of his Starr
                    And we told him so
     Which inspired him to even greater works
                        For us to see

          It seemed he was winning the battle
        With that little Civil War in each of us
      But, things are not always as they seem
       His vindication came too little, too late

          The countless heartbreaks, of years gone by
   Came upon him like a flood, and took him away from us
            His Starr fell from the sky, into an ocean, 
          Filled with the tears he'd kept locked inside
                        For far too long

               His friends, Words and Music
                    Never left him, but
                He lost his hearing, then
            He lost his vision, and....Finally
                     He lost his voice

                No longer could he say
      "The Things That Needed Saying"
       The things that were crying out
             From his soul and spirit 

        No longer could he feel the comforts
           Of his friends, Words and Music

                I knew this man, who was
        So much more than he ever knew
                    And I miss him
          I miss his...Words and Music

© Mirror_rorriM 1999

Little Did He Know

                     Little Did He Know


       He was not what everyone thought he was 
 
        Too often, he was silent, with a smile
        We all thought he felt too good for us
           As if coming down to our level
          Was too much of a stretch, and
        We just weren't worth the effort, but
                  Little Did We Know...
 
        He always seemed so strong, and confident
          As if he didn't need another soul to survive 
       A Rock firmly set in a world of swampland
      We went to him when our heads were low
      And it just seemed so comfortable, so right
    We never imagined he was in pain, because 
          He seemed so above it all, but 
                   Little Did We Know...
 
               For, in his Darkest Hour
              The times when friends
          Would have been there to help
         We weren't, 'cos we didn't know
                And now....it's too late
 
       We didn't know that he needed us
           As much as we needed him
    Or that when he was silent around us
           It was because he was afraid

      He was afraid he wasn't good enough
               Or smart enough for us
He thought the only the only reason we tolerated him
      Was for what we could get from him
               But that wasn't it at all
 
       There was just something about him
        That made you want to be near him
         He made you feel safe, and secure 
           Even when he was being quiet
 
        He couldn't see that Magic in his Heart
 That shone so brightly on us, like a Golden Sunrise 
     The only thing he could see were his failures,
          His insecurities, and shortcomings
 
       He couldn't see that we wanted to be with him
      And that those things were overshadowed by
        The Goodness that flowed from inside him
            He thought he alone needed us, but
                         Little Did He Know...
 
©2000 Mirror_rorriM

The Accused /May Justice Prevail: A Soliloquy

                                      The Accused 
 
I'm pretty sure I just plagiarized some ideas from two Stephen King films, and a Dale Launer film, but I'm referencing them now, so they won't have to sue me...LOL. 
 
In hindsight, after writing this, I realized some minute, yet powerful elements from The Green Mile, and The Shawshank Redemption. My take is a little different, but nonetheless inspired by those two great films. The sparse comedic moments are reminiscent of My Cousin Vinny, another great movie.
 
The concept: What if, for once, a guilty offender didn't pull out all the stops to save his morally bankrupt, wretched hide, but took full responsibility for his actions instead?
 
Sometimes, when the iron is hot, you just gotta write...
 
Now, on with the "show".


 "The Accused /May Justice Prevail: A Soliloquy
                        (a one-act play)
 
 
Opening 
 
courtroom scene:
 
      (Voices chattering loudly)
 
Bailiff: All hear, all hear, please stand as the right-honorable Judge Hendrecksen takes the bench!
 
    (Tribunal members stand to their feet)
 
Judge: You may be seated. 
 
    (Courtroom sits) 
 
Judge: Bailiff, what is next on the docket?
 
Bailiff: Your Honor, it's the "State vs The Accused"
 
Judge: Will the Defendant please stand?
 
     (Defendant stands)
 
Judge: The record states that at your pre-trial hearing, you entered in a plea of no contest, with extenuating circumstances. Do you wish to change your plea at this time?
 
The Accused: No Judge, I do not.  
 
Judge: Let the record state, The Accused chooses to retain his plea.
 
    (Gavel bangs on podium)
 
Judge: Then let the trial commence. Sir, I see you have no Trial Attorney representing you. Legal counsel provided by the state can be assigned to you, or do you wish to serve as your own counsel?
 

The Accused: Your honor, I respectfully decline. I'll be my own counsel, and if it pleases the court, I humbly request that the jury kindly be removed, that I might have the opportunity to address you personally regarding these charges leveled against me.

 
   (Courtroom voices gasp)
 
   (Prosecutor shaking head in disbelief)
 
   (Gavel bangs rapidly)
 
Judge: Order in the Court! 
 
Sir, this is highly unusual and provocative. Do you realize what you're asking?
 
The Accused: Yes sir, I do. 
 
Judge: Very well, your request is granted, but just get on with it.
 
The Accused: YesI willMight I speak plainly, Judge?
 
Judge: Yes, you may.
 
The Accused: Thank you, Your Honor. In the interest of a true and fair Justice, I stand here alone. Although not prudent, it is my choice to do so. 
 
Sir, I own what I've done. Every minute of everyday, I own it. I think about it, dream about it, and I agonize over it, wishing with all that is within me that I could undo what I've done.
 
I stand here alone today, just as I was alone the day I killed dear Mr Johnson, his lovely wife, and their two beautiful children. I was neither inebriated, nor impaired in any form or fashion, but, be that as it may, a great wrong was done. A wrong that I truly feel must be set right today.
 
Judge, you say that my being here, without counsel, or representation, is unusual and provocative, and I agree. But please let me explain, and I will then humbly accept whatever sentence you deem fitting for the crimes I stand accused of.
 
Judge: (*sarcastically*) So you say!
 
   (Courtroom laughs)
 
The Accused: I stand here today, as I've stated, alone. Far too many times, a guilty person, or persons will stand before a court of Justice, with a jury of their peers, to ascertain their guilt, and to decide whether or not the State has presented enough factual evidence to properly convict the Accused, only to be given an unfair reprieve due to some legal technicality, loop-hole, or outright blunder.
 
Judge: (*visibly angered*) Sir! If you think this ploy will gain you, as you say, an "unfair reprieve" you are sorely mistaken!
 
The Accused: No, your honor, this is neither a ploy, nor the last ditch effort of a desperate man. Were I to retain counsel, certain unpleasant facts would inevitably come to light that I feel would unfairly taint the minds and emotions of the jury, and of Lady Justice herself.
 
Judge: You are speaking nonsense, young man! 
 
The Accused: Perhaps, your Honor, perhaps.
 
     (Courtroom laughs)
 
Judge: (*frustratingly*) This is your last warning! I do not abide foolishness in this court, and if you try to have this declared a mistrial, I'll hold you in contempt, with extreme prejudice
 
Be forewarned, I'm watching your every move.
 
The Accused: I understand, your honor. Might I proceed?
 
Judge: You may.
 
The Accused: As I said before, certain unpleasant facts would no doubt be introduced...
 
Judge: So, this is about damage-control then?
 
The Accused: No, Judge, it isn't.
 
Judge: (*curiously*) Then what is it about?
 
The Accused: It's about Justice. May I continue?
 
Judge: Carry on, then.
 
The Accused: These facts I mentioned, are my history of mental illness..
 
     
 
Judge: (*Interrupting*) Hold on just a minute. If you're mentally ill, then it's within your rights to be properly evaluated, then judged fairly, based on the evaluations and recommendations.
 
The Accused: I understand, your Honor.
 
Judge: (*unsure*) And you're saying...you decline the offer of expert evaluations?
 
The Accused: Yes Sir, I do, emphatically.
 
Judge: Continue..
 
The Accused: Thank you.
 
    (Gavel pounds)
 
Judge: Hold on, I object!
 
The Accused: Judge, you can't object!
 
   (Courtroom breaks out in raucous laughter)
 
Judge: Yes, of course. you're right. But do you understand? This is not a game, there are no do-overs here.
 
The Accused: Yes, I'm very well aware.
 
Judge: Fine, but it's your neck that you're hanging.
 
The Accused: (*Continuing*)...For decades, guilty people have paraded about every "reason", excuse, and fallacy for why they should be judged lightly, or worse yet, exonerated.
 
Judge: And what's wrong with that? The Justice system, while not perfect, still affords every man a right to leniency.
 
The Accused: What's wrong with THAT??
 
Judge: (*excitedly*) Yes!!
 
The Accused: (*ANGRILY*) What's wrong with that, is that upper-class rapists, pedophiles, murderers, drug traffickers, and all manner of evil doers go on trial, get sentenced, and do two years at Club Fed, while the poor who run afoul of the law get the maximum punishment! Do you call that FAIR?
 
Judge: I never said the system was perfect.
 
The Accused: No, you didn't.
 
Judge: Then what's your PROBLEM ??
 
    (Loud gasping from court members)
 
The Accused: My problem?
 
Judge: Yes, YOUR problem!
 
The Accused: My problem, since you asked, is everything!
 
Judge: Everything?
 
The Accused: Yes, EVERYTHING!
 
    (Courtroom snickering preposterously)
 
Judge: (*Bangs gavel violently*) Order! I'll have ORDER in MY court!! I've had enough of this foolishness now. Are you finished?
 
The Accused: No Judge, I'm not.
 
Judge: Then let's move it along. 
 
But first, let me state for the record, (*sarcastically*) "Counselor", that you have a FOOL for a client!
 
   (Court watchers gasp in amazement)
 
The Accused: (*Flatly*) Duly noted, your Honor.
 
Judge: Carry on..
 
The Accused: You asked what I'm tired of. I've been in lockup for eight months now, and in that time..
 
    (Prematurely injecting)
 
Judge: Oh! You're tired, and you want to go home now, is that it?
 
   (Scattered laughing)
 
The Accused: No, that's NOT it. I'm right where I deserve to be!
 
   (Crowd murmurs)
 
Judge: Then what's the problem?
 
The Accused: The "problem" is that nearly everywhere I look, I see the very dregs of society, the few who do actually serve time, living like kings! They have special meals delivered to their cells, while the rest in general population eat rancid, diseased food in a mess hall, where everyday they have to fight for their lives, or die trying.
 
The problem is, the real criminals in life have cable tv, free college, gym privileges, more free time than a man needs, and no responsibilities, or accountability to speak of. 
 
These repeat offenders are afforded the very hallmarks of those with a privileged upbringing, while those who are poor and weak are left to lick the crumbs from their tables of plenty.
 
Judge: (*maliciously*) So, I'm to understand, you're speaking today for all those poor poor felonious individuals who were judged guilty, as if they were the very martyrs of innocence?
 
The Accused: No, your honor, I'm speaking on my own behalf.
 
Judge: You're STILL a fool!
 
    (Bystanders laughing)
 
The Accused: Maybe so, but you asked a fair question, and yet you'll not allow me to properly answer that question.
 
Judge: (*exasperatedly*) Then ANSWER the DAMN QUESTION!!
 
  (silence in courtroom)

The Accused: (*weakly*) I'm tired, your Honor... so very tired.
 
Judge: (*acerbically*) And so am I now!
 
   (Laughter erupt from spectators)
 
   (Gavel banging)
 
Judge: (*kindly*) You're tired, I'm tired, we're ALL tired, son.
 
The Accused: But not the way I am. And not for the reasons you suppose. I'm tired from so many years of watching the poor-in-spirit dragging themselves from one day to the next, working like dogs, when they're able to find a job, hoping for a break that will turn everything around for them, only to be kicked to the curb time and again.
 
I'm tired of seeing the wicked prosper, while many of God's children suffer in silence and hunger, many without a roof to call home. The longing to be free from so much worry and concern...
 
Judge: (*paternally*) Son, this is a court of law. These things you speak of cannot be dealt with...
 
(Defendant interrupts)
 
The Accused: Yes Judge, I understand. But if you'll allow me a little latitude, I'll get to my point as quickly as I can. I just need you to hear the details in order to have all the facts, so you may judge me rightly.
 
Judge: (*Kindly*) Son, I sense that you're getting to a very important point, so I'm going to grant you some leeway, but please get to your point.
 
The Accused: Thank you, your honor. In truth, my spirit is worn, weary, and despite any notions you may have, the reason I'm here is because of the horrible thing I've done to Mr Johnson and his family. I am repentant, and I only wish for Justice to remove her blinders for a time and hand down a sentence worthy of the crime committed.
 
    (Confused expressions in courtroom)
 
Judge: One last time young man, I must stress your need for knowledgeable counsel before you go any further.
 
The Accused: I appreciate your concern Judge, but I've thought long and hard on this matter, and I'll not be dissuaded, but thank you for your consideration .
 
Judge: (*Lamenting with Resignation*) Very well son, it's your trial to conduct in whatever way you choose.
 
The Accused: Your Honor, the Old Testament prophets preached God's "Eye-for-an-Eye" teachings, and while Love eventually superseded that, I believe that in some circumstances, it still holds true. I'm not speaking regarding any possible enemies, but of myself.
 
Judge: (*Unsure*) Yourself?
 
The Accused: Yes, (*sighing*) myself. Everyday I live and breathe the life that I so recklessly stole from the Johnson's. I live, knowing that they will never see their children grow up, graduate high school and college, and embark on a life of their own, with an eventual family of their own.They will never see their grandchildren, or their grandchildren's children. 
 
When I was a young man Judge, I stole many things. The things I stole, I was able to return if I chose to do so. When I grew up, I refrained from stealing, yet here I am, guilty this time of stealing something which can never be returned, human lives, and the futures they would have had.
 
This is a burden that I carry silently, but find that I cannot..
 
Judge: (*Interrupting compassionately*) Son, this is, I say again, a court of LAW, not one of humanity, and I can only judge on matters of...
 
The Accused: (*Breaking in*) Yes, I'm well aware of that your Honor. For the things I've done, both past, and present, I'm sorry. My only wish today, is to settle the accounts rightfully. My soul cannot live it's life any longer, knowing what I've robbed that poor family of.
 
Judge: (*Curiously*) And what are you asking of me, young man? You requested the jury of your peers to be set aside. But, what are you wanting from me? ...Forgiveness?
 
The Accused: No, kind Sir. Forgiveness is available freely from God, but presently I am unworthy of such a thing. What I humbly request is to be released from my misery, to pay, in some small way for my crimes.
 
Judge: (*confused*) Released? As in pardoned?
 
The Accused: No, Father, that would not be right. I beg that you would release me from this wretched life I've made a mess of. 
 
I've squandered all that you and my Mother have so generously given me. I've laid my hand to hard work for many years, and yet haven't two pence to rub together. 
 
I've also failed, and laid to waste my own family, my wife and children, in so many ways that I fear not even my Guardian Angel could keep track of my many offenses. I've lived an entirely unfulfilled life, despite my righteous upbringing.
 
All I ask, dear Father is one last kindness.
 
Judge: Butto what end, my beloved son?
 
The Accused: The chance to right my egregious wrongs, Father. The time has come that I must pay for my offenses, measure for measure, so to speak. 
 
Although there were four lives extinguished, and the potential for many more, I have only one life to give in return, and the time for pure Justice is nigh. Pleas of restitution cry from beyond the grave, and these voices I must answer to.
 
Judge: And what would you have me do, my only son?
 
The Accused: .....Let me go Father. Let the swiftness of Death visit me forthwith, and let your memories of me be that of someone you wouldn't be ashamed to own. This burden in my soul cries out for Justice, and I cannot ignore it any longer.
 
Judge: (*Pleadingly*) ...But, it was an accident! Accidents happen, and are nothing more than that. There was no premeditation, no malice, and no motive. 
 
And what should I say when God himself questions me regarding this matter?
 
The Accused: (*Compassionately*)...My Dear Father, tell Him that you, with a heavy heart, did what needed to be done, to the best of your abilities, in the very worst of circumstances.
 
Tell Him that Justice cried out for itself, but that it was meted out with Mercy.
 
Judge: (*Tears Streaming Down Face, Sobbing*) I don't know if I can...
 
The Accused: Then tell Him you gave one of His very least a slice of charity that he was not worthy of...
 
Tell Him...that my soul was wrenching in agony and inconceivable sadness over the things I've done. 
 
Tell Him...That despair became my portion, and you graciously relieved me of my burdens in the most kind, and humane way possible. 
 
Tell Him...that you gave me everything I needed to succeed in life, that you taught me by being a perfect and blameless example.
 
Tell Him...that I'm sorry for all of my mistakes, blunders and failings, and that this is the only way my soul can reconcile itself in light of the lives I've taken, and the sins committed.
 
Judge: (*Crying Uncontrollably*) ...Son
 
The Accused: (*Tears Streaming*) Tell Him...I know you did everything right, that none of this is your fault.
 
Tell Him...of the sadnesses of your own heart this day.
Tell Him...I'm grateful for everything you've done for me.
Tell Him...I'm thankful for every kindness He's shown me.
Tell Him...there was just no other way.
 
Please Father, just...Tell Him.
 
 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

 The concept: What if, for once, a guilty offender didn't pull out all the stops to save his morally bankrupt, wretched hide, but took full responsibility for his actions instead?

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House of Horrors

House of Horrors 
 

Inside My Head.....

Is a house with many rooms
 
Not the pretty house
With the coordinated colors
And the finely manicured lawn
With the great big Live Oak tree
 
It's that house, on the street.
The eyesore that people 
Turn a blind eye to,
As if it didn't exist.
Not worthy of anyone's attention.
 
Inside is a Mirror_rorriM image.
The same eyesore, that
Friends never come to visit
Because ...... There are none
Only fights, arguments, turmoil & despair
 
Inside, you won't find maids, butlers
Cooks, or even candle stick makers
Save for a 15 year old boy
Left to be the all-in-one
'Cos no one else cares
 
The many rooms are the stages.
Remnants of a life, unlived, 
Potentials unfulfilled, 
Unwanted, expendable
Tortured and forever haunted
 
 
Go to the rooms, and you'll find
Some doors unlocked, some open wide.
But the rooms of innocence, 
and forgiveness...
Well, ... let's just say, they were
Not invited to the party.
 
My inner child? Where is he?
The boy who wanted to fly.
 
The one who always said
"Please" and "Thank You"
 
With a smile, even when 
His heart was damaged.
 
Look all you like,
'Cos he won't be found, you see, 
he is in a very "special" place.
 
Tied up, blindfolded, gagged, and
Thrown into a locked closet
Of a very dark room
 
Behind a triple-locked door
The keys and combination, 
Tossed, and forgotten ages ago
 
The next stop on the tour
Is the adolescent phase
Better known as the room of horrors
 
Though also locked, you can't miss it.
It's the door with blood seeping underneath,
 
a small, coagulated pool in the hallway,
That no one ever bothered to clean up.
Not a happy place
 
On the other side of the house is 
The room of dreams.
Filled with all the things 
Hoping to be accomplished.
 
The figure of a man
Standing on a stage. 
Hidden in the shadows
Holding it down, 
"One" with the drums
Playing songs that move the soul
 
The writer, seated at a desk
With a small lamp
Dispensing encouraging
Words of wisdom to those in need
 
The aspirations of finding happiness,
Love, and all the beauty Life has to offer.
Of happy children, loved, and protected
Confident, and compassionate.
 
There is a lot of dust in this room,
As it was abandoned long ago
Around the time Innocence disappeared
And sheer survival emerged.
 
If you ever see this house, turn away
And keep walking.......please
......Just keep walking
 
 
Copyright Mirror_rorriM 2016.  7/4/16 2:49a