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The Still Voice


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He sits in the jail cell, lost and broken.
Drank too much, drove two fast.
A family of five killed.
Two infants, one three year old.
Even the pet dog.
They were returning from vacation.
Pure and innocent, simple and young.
The song playing was their favorite.
It was their tradition.
And forever we live hand in hand.
He can't forget those words.
For they were true, even to death.
The scene.
Haunting.
He stares at the ceiling, knows what is the truth.
He killed them. All of them.
His life is over, so he just lies there hopeless.
If only he could hear the sweet Voice calling his name.
The still Voice rings through the silence.
'Come to Me, oh, broken man.
Come to My peace.'



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This article has 2 comments. Post your own!

sadesdd said...
Feb. 2, 2013 at 1:01 am:
Yes I agree, the simplicity made the poem great. It was one you didn't have to guess what things meant and had to comprehend deep things though deep words- just out there. Thanks cuz sometimes I get tired of interpreting. This poem was so sad! But great:)
 
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CariePierce said...
Jan. 30, 2013 at 9:28 am:
Amazing. I'm in love with your writing. This was deep, yet not too wordy. Keep up the excellent work.
 
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