Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Bank Job

Holding up a bank in the Westfield.
I lost my mind.
...Out of time.

And the telephone rings.
A bells rung out.
...as they talk about...

Twenty-three people held hostage.
The blood is red.
...I shake my head.

I know I'm going down.
With a bang.
...What a shame.

To realize I've done wrong, I've really screwed up.
Out of luck.
...all for what?

Bullets loaded, and the guns cocked.
Say goodbye.
...Before I...

1 comment:

  1. I really like the structure of this poem. My favorite part is the ending. I like how it stops abruptly and allows the reader to imagine the ending.

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