Hanging

The sky is clear, and I am old,
At last I have been caught.
With all my clever schemes and plans,
Alas they are for nought.
Passion’s crime, that of the heart,
Excuses could be used,
But in the end I’m evil’s host,
And all my trust abused.
The hemp that forms my collar tight,
’tis right and just deserved,
And where my place in heaven was,
No longer is reserved.
While dragged I am by baying hoard,
Towards the gallows high,
I shed no tear for I am old,
And oh so clear the sky.

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2 Responses to Hanging

  1. Jules Lucton says:

    Brilliant poem, Simon. Wanted just to click Like, but I don’t particularly like it! Just think it’s really good xxx

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