Sir William Havenbot This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

May 4, 2018
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There was something wrong for sure
Besides the silent breeze,
The crowded chairs,
The daylight had stopped playing long before
As the lawyers spoke,
In the crowd, along the wooden floor
Two feet tread, not tiny, rather outgrown
Sounds echoed to fight, and beyond that wall,
I swear I saw the sun ignite.
The arguments heard,
The statements differed
Yet a common notion swam back the trail
Like the sun, it followed the crowd again and again and again
An hour or so, the judge yelled
The people came, the tears felt
And when the sun above had come to still
It sat and saw, and overheard,
A hammer nailed, the gentlemen sat,
The two feet were invited back
He slouched, he fell, his head barely held
Like a newborn, he learned and forgot
His name was Ben- Ben Wilkins
Yet in the formality of it all,
He thought the name was rather odd
And so he insisted, “Call me Sir William Havenbot”
Sir was a rather crazy lot
He had killed a man, and got away
And for sure the reason was clear
The witness agreed the face familiar
So the tall black man was studied up and down
And all agreed, Sir William Havenbot was rather nuclear
There was something wrong for sure
For when the bullets rang that night?
Sir Havenbot was asleep- not in sight
Yet what a mistake he had come to have done!
To have found the man fallen in blood
There was something wrong with Havenbot for sure
For despite the insanity he had witnessed before
In the home for mad men
He heard stories and forgot them
He then heard them over
He still stood, unsettled
“I do not like the name William”, he declared
It was realised only then,
Sir had forgotten a tale once again

 






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