Like a sudden appearance of death,
The image intrudes on my vision,
Trampling underfoot every obstructing thought
Like a hurt man bent on revenge,
It reminds me of my offence
And brings to light my sins.
I feel the touch of conscience -
It's as a sharp needle thrust into a balloon -
For the time of forgetfulness,
Of favours so big, but soon forgotten.
The vision -
A painting of all my sins,
All results of forgetfulness
Lingers on in my mind.
The thief must be executed,
The killer must be killed,
But what heppens to the forgetful?
That is the thrust of my vision,
It's as a sharp needle thrust into a balloon.
========= a very nice poem===== killing others for same crimes you commit often =================conscience is the judgge ================kip it up=======================
sometimes people's poems seem like shadows.well, this is one shadow that touches and grasp.nice piece.
A very nice piece of work.Keep it up that we may also learn from you.Thank you very much. Edward Kofi Louis.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Poem brings forth undertones of anger