A Story............. Poem by RIC BASTASA

he feels guilty why he is not guilty
at that time when the guy was shot mercilessly
beside his wife that early morning,

most of those who knew him say that he was one of those bad guys.

these dangerous times, people seemingly thirst for vengeance
against the bad guys.

who knows who the bad guys are? did we not just take the word from those who label those bad guys as bad?

have we fathomed the depth of the well to know whether there is water there, whether the water is safe?

are these the unthinking times? blood squirted from the brain of
the animal, blood flowed from his head, and as he tried to ask for help, looking for a safe corner,

all the doors are closed, the wife screams, blood followed his body like a river, he drags his body on the long empty hall.