Caught

December 7, 2009
By Anonymous

Sirens flaring through the dark colors of the midnight sky.
Footprints stain the brazen sidewalks.
I'm fighting to catch my breath as my face hits the asphalt.
Broken glass blankets the pavements on the ground.
The tempers of the dogs rise as I struggle to escape the crime.
The bloodshot eyes of the sheriff begin to align with my fearless soul.
I take a step back and then try to flee away.
Fingers are directly pointed at me and the chase begins.
The suspense starts to escalate as the devil's symphonany lingers on me.
Angels look down and take a glance at me and have no sympathy.
My hands are now behind my head with my knees on the rocky asphalt.
Sweat running down my sinful face.
Handcuffs strangling the skin on my bloody wrists.
The faces of my peers stained with fear.
Their eyes filled with somber and bittersweet tears.
I'm shoved into the car.
I don't turn back.
I hide myself in shame.
I can't redemn myself because I got caught.
I sit behind the bars with my hands holding my tearwashed face.
The cell reaks of broken spirits.
The pain within myself sinks deeper.
I feel completely drained.
I wish I wouldn't had did this.
I knew I was gonna get caught.


The author's comments:
This is another poem I wrote for my friend Ciarria.

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