He escaped

[Pendragon]

HE ESCAPED

In the cold, grey dawn they buried him
near the spot where he had died;
with no family there to mourn him—
the guards just laughed. I cried.

We’d shared a cell for fourteen years,
in the dark prison on the cliffs;
with a long, hard grind ahead of us,
always wondering “If—“.

We were chosen for the road gang.
(At least we’d get fresh air!
And stretch our legs outside our cell,
away from this prison of despair!)

On the back of the truck on our way down,
I thought I saw a good chance to escape.
So, forgetting I was chained to him,
I dived over the tailgate!

The momentum drew the shackles tight
and spun him clean around;
jerked him backwards off the truck,
to crush his head against the ground.

In the cold, grey dawn they buried him,
near the spot where he had died;
with no family there to mourn him,
the guards just laughed. I cried.

Pendragon
© 5/1/97

Originally Published in Murderous Intent Magazine

[PrinceMyshkin]

Very poignant, dear Pen! I especially like how it returns at the end to the simple fact of the narrator's weeping - as if that were all there was to say.

[Hawkman]

I concur, very effective and atmospheric - Thanks

[qimissung]

And so sad! I do love how you begin and end it, and of course the irony of the title.

[Pendragon]

Thanks my friends. :hat:

[Bar22do]

It was so hard to read, to experience this poem. It only shows its might. Including the concluding title... thanks Pen. Very vivid.