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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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