The martyr

It was a soft early
Evening on the shores of Aegaen Sea
I was walking across a little harbor
Trying to catch little fish to play with
And there was this little boy, 6 or some
Dark hair, marvelous eyes
Very quiet, you could not see him if you wouldn’t try,
Going from one fisherman to another like a little panther,
Watching and learning a little, he wouldn’t speak, just sit quietly besides them
As if he guarded them
The sky was deep purple,
And in that one moment
It all made sense
Suddenly, as the kid walked from the fishermans
A tall, ape like, mid 40s man, slapped him that hard
That I almost cried
But the kid was brave enough not to cry
And he left with his head down
“That must be his father” I sourly hoped
But it wasn’t
And I still want to stab in the heart that killer
Every evening

Reviews

[JR]

I disagree with OilsandSyntax, I actually liked how you ended it. It leaves you wondering what happened. i also like how you set the mood leading up to it, about a lone boy and how he doesn't cry. All in all it was sad but there was also a strength there that is shown only slightly.

[OilsandSyntax]

I love the images of the fishermen and the little boy. I can see him creeping like a panther. I can see him studying the fishermen. You did a good job setting up this scene. I'm not so sure about the ending though. It feels a little off to me. Did the father kill the son? I missed it somehow.
Overall, I love this peice. I love the details you pull out and the images you leave with my mind to think upon.