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What I Would Do When the Sun Went Down
February 29, 2012
A crooked smile,
Hangs across his face.
I edge away.
He closes the gap.
I wonder what it would take.
To leave.
More than I can handle.
Most likely.
I could pray for guidance.
But I won't.
Why should I?
It's counter-productive.
I look over his shoulder.
People ignoring the man
(And lady.)
in the alley-way.
Why?
I bet.
If I call out for help.
No one will come.
I've heard that yelling.
Fire!
It works.
But he has a gun.
Poised and ready.
But I'm not.
Will I die?
The thought makes me
sweat.
But acceptance comes.
My life was short.
But happy.
(I guess.)
They'll find me.
In the alley.
Alone.
Cold.
The killer would
(wouldn't?)
be found.
Oh well.
Bang.
Bang.
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