The Fall of George Witherill

May 5, 2008
By Erika Kubick, North Barrington, IL

Georgey Witherill betrayed
Far too many in his day
Robbed of family and love.
His child, one sent from above
An angel with golden curls
The center of Georgey’s world.
But a stranger wanted her
He never asked, “may I sir?”
Instead he took the sweet girl
The child with skin of pearls.
So far from her home she was lead
Georgey thought that she was dead.
And on that simple day of fate
Georgey’s heart filled up with hate.
“Alone I am,” Georgey thought
Revenge was what the man sought.
In a trigger happy wink
Bodies fell out to the brink.
Georgey let the bullets fly
With no kin to explain why.
Then one day the sheriff said
“Witherill get out of bed!
We found the Demon behind the pain
We found out how to play his game
We stalked tracks of blood and wrath
To this doorstep led the path!”
And off to jail went our boy
Along with poise and a pinch of coy.
All alone sat God Himself
In a dark and dirty cell.
Whisper, whispers all around
Revenge and hate Georgey found
Are eternal in this world.
Georgey’s blood began to curl
As the haunting pole drew near
Georgey shed not one small tear.
Round his neck they wrapped a noose
Pulling, pulling, its not loose.
Torches lit the burial ground
People gathered all around
Through his lips there fell a sigh
No one waited for good-bye.
Then the safety plank vanished
Only wind could grant his wish
And Georgey’s life slithered by
While his limbs spasm and fly
Remorse showered every soul
In their hearts there was a hole.
Through a crowd, as dense as fog
Shot a scream much like a log.
Golden curls were only seen
A sweet beauty at the scene.
Not one recalls the day as sappy
The day they heard her voice yell, “Pappy!”

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