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The Axe: A poem for a father

I hear what they say about me

It rings in my head

Don't they trust me?

Come now, I've lived in this town ages-

It never changes



You accuse me of murder

You think I'm a liar

I won't take the blame

You'll remember my name



Infamous love

That's turned to hatred



Concealed a sin

I don't need a gun

To take his life



He already took mine



All the years of pain

With nothing to gain

Just a heart-broken heart



Filled with hatred

Nothing is sacred

Bring me the axe



He must be finished



I feel the heavy handle

As I held tighter

My knuckles white





Held my breath-

Let the axe fall-



The gush of blood

He was a good man



At least that's what they thought



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