18+ A short poem about finding a body and moving on. |
-Let It Lie- by Keaton Foster There’s a body A rotting cartography Made by a twisted master There are hills Valleys and peaks There is fluid There is meat Plenty of refuse Death has changed less Who killed this man Was it murder Or suicide by the numbers Who placed the gun by his side Who bound his hands Never could there be a replay There are too many variables And shades of increasing gray Let it lie Just find the will to walk away Forget his face Forget the stain I’d say dig him a grave But not because of what you think Not out of respect for the deceased But rather because of the stink Visual things can be forgotten But some smells are forever Fear not over his time alone In both life and now in death Another will come along This path well-traveled He will be gathered up and disposed All of the stains washed away The ever essence of his death Masked by bouquets of flowers Left by those grieving With regard to what he has done Let it lie Do not find yourself involved Nothing good comes from death Nor should it ever They’ll be questions Ones that demand answers They’ll be judgment Accusers are always looking For someone to be a scapegoat Coping with the death of him Could easily be replaced With seeking vengeance for him Trust me when I say Never betray your instinct to turn away Never resist the urge to not get involved Let it lie Assumption is king He killed himself One to the brain Ended his misery Why make any part of it yours Let another carry that load Let another report his doom You will not be judged But be assured You will be crucified by man I wish it was more complex than that But without question It’s not… Let It Lie Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014. |