Help Me Poem by Gary Excell

You dream of a gun, being held at your head,
A squeeze of the trigger, your lying there now dead, 
You awake in a trance, shadows fill the room, 
The atmosphere so stuffy, sitting in the gloom,
You lay back on the bed, and try to close your eyes,
Imagination in overdrive, another person dies, 
Tossing and turning, trying to get to sleep,
In the distance of the night you hear a child weep,
Out of bed and down the stairs, You walk around the house, 
Trying not to break the peace, Your as quite as a mouse, 
The nightmares of the years go by, Remembered one by one, 
That never ending corridor, not moving when you run, 
Out the door, along the street, far away from here, 
Through the wood and out of town, your emotions seem sincere, 
The more you run, the more you think, The more confusion grows, 
That gun you held against your head, the more your feelings show,
A flash of blue, a siren scream, A voice in the distance heard, 
You pick up pace and start to run, without a single word, 
A crack is heard across the sky, a pain its in your head, 
Trip and stumble, fall to earth, you lying there now dead, 
The news is brief at 10 o’clock, a murderer shot dead, 
That gun you held in your hand, has shot your lover dead.