The RobberyA Poem by MachinaWriterLooking for some solid criticism on this piece. Let me know what you think...I don’t remember if he said it Some hint of what would come As I took the anesthetic I barely remembered the gun The feeling crept into my brain Pushing back the one last sane -notion Of morality, escaping me As I took the home made potion I probably thought It’d be the same We’d drink some more We’d play a game Of poker where I’d win Sleep deprived, once again With the mix of whiskey and vicodin So when I found us in the lobby Of the bank- I had probably Barely knew why the man had shot me Unaware we were in a robbery I hit the floor, the pain was clear I grabbed my arm, full of fear Bang-bang! The shooter hit the floor My buddy rushed beside me While the other watched the door He says “You okay?” He looks afraid But not as much as me “F**k man! I got shot, or maybe you didn’t see?” He tells me then he has a plan and that I
shouldn’t worry Too late, bud, it better work And your other friend had better hurry He needs to quickly crack it The door of the vault Cuz if he doesn’t soon, I’ll shoot the dude And say it’s all his fault We wrap my arm, I look around At the people on the ground Huddled close, silently, without a single sound F**k, we really messed up now Who’s idea, had it been? The dick who thought of this? Not me, I know for sure I barely knew where here is Or where I was, or how I even got here Last I knew, I’d been at home Drinking another beer This wasn’t new, I had a habit In more ways than one Every time I did this s**t I was loading my own gun I’m playing a game with death But honestly, I didn’t see Me ending my final breath On the floor of a bank, -With two bullets in my chest I look upon the body, of the man who had shot me Red stains upon the blue -uniform he wore, he’d never had a clue That today his life would end, he’d pay his final due I find myself shaking, I’m losing my grip Coming off the drugs, now ain’t this some s**t? If only I’d OD’d maybe I could have slipped Away from this life, with a semblance of respect But look at me now, a criminal reject Accomplice to a killing Armed robbery, as well Money and lives I’m stealing To buy my place in hell I stare upon a child, He’s staring back at me Tears in his eyes I hope he didn’t see Through the fingers of his mom At the man now dead and gone His blood upon the floor This s**t has gone so wrong! Outside the doors, I see the cars Circling the bank Lights flash, cops form My heart suddenly sank “The cops are here, we’re screwed” I yell My friend shakes his head. “F**k this man, I have a plan, we’re not going to
jail!” He stands to his feet, my heart begins to beat My stress goes off the scale Cuz at that time, he leaves behind, any chance to stay from hell. He grabs the child, his eyes are wild The boy doesn’t make a sound The mother says “take me instead!” But he knocks her down, then spins around A gun to the child’s head “We’re taking the money, and the boy -so don’t you try to follow!” The cops outside, try to decide If his threats are truly hollow But I know the man, I know his plan -he’ll never hesitate I know right then, despite my sins There’s no time to wait I grab my gun, before he can run I point it at my friend “I’m sorry, bud, we’ve gone to far You know we’ll never win” His finger twitches and something switches Off in my head I pull the trigger, and so deliver A bullet- now he’s dead Tomorrow they decide my sentence For how long I’ll spend in jail I’ll take the time I’m given Perhaps, I’ll be saved from my time in hell © 2012 MachinaWriterAuthor's Note
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Added on September 14, 2012Last Updated on September 14, 2012 AuthorMachinaWriterSpringfield, ILAboutMy original passion has always been in writing stories. Most of them were fantasy stories, because I always wanted to escape. That's what it was. An escape from the troubles of life. Joining this site.. more..Writing
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