Perspective

Perhaps I knew all along,

A plan weaved from within.

Perhaps I acted in instinct,

A doe protecting fawn.

But it doesn't matter now

Blood thick on my hands

Who will stop to consider the intention?

Perhaps I deserve this fate,

Rough fibers weave around my neck.

Perhaps I am wronged,

An externality of mankind's faults.

But it doesn't matter now

The rope tightens

And the floor beneath me falls.

Reviews

[Blu]

A typical, If I can phrase it this way, tale. Not in a negative way. Boldly tragic, the poem speaks for itself in a loud voice; a man reasoning his own actions, trying to dig deeper into himself, with clever and witty wordage, as he sees himself leap and fall. I see this poem as a epigraph for a grandiose novel, as a prequel of one's ultimate actions, sacrifices.
Experience of deaths and flaws in people have driven him wary and self-alerted, and at the needlepoint of his passing, he doubts everything.
Human nature, it is commonly called. I find this poem to be a great example of one.

[fwvalidus]

Thanks for your review Blu! Quite a lot of thought you have put into your feedback which I greatly appreciate. My intention is to have the reader think about this one and decide themselves whether the viewpoint character is guilty, innocent, or rather somewhere in the grey zone. Is it metaphorical or is it literal? Up to you to decide.

[Frieda P]

Bad perspective from my pov, that's how my sister ended it, your poem snared it and tied it up quite aptly...

[fwvalidus]

I'm unsure of what your feelings are about the poem.. its meant to be about capital punishment, not suicide. But I figure it can be whatever the reader decides it should be about

[Frieda P]

I enjoyed your poetry, it just stirred up personal feelings for me, I can see where you were going now....

[Dean]

..and you know no more,
Very nice

[fwvalidus]

Thanks Dean!