Punishment

CRIME

AND PUNISHMENT

The Asking

And the receipts we keep

Fleeting hands of a wooden God

Counts the hours till a readied time

Where dementia will cease, the suffering will end

Could there be fragments left

Of that person I knew long before

Someplace behind the diabolical and the discontent

Could that person still breathe inside?

Or are these thoughts but deluded dreams,

Are your eyes even salient anymore?

I know they tear in joy

When your victim begs for you to stop

But these tears you share are nothing

But an anticipatory salivating ploy

I cycle this progression more times than I should

Begging, seeking, praying I find the version I once knew

I struggle, I fight, yet to forget, I too must overlook all the cries