Poetry Monday

November 14, 2016

The Fall

He’s fallen
flat on his face.
Standing
in the midst of disgrace.

There he stands,
no change of pace.
No break in stride,
but lost his place.

Lost.
Seated before a vision.
False.
Riddled a tale of fission.

He dares ask, “Why?”
when he knows the answer.
And my god
he chose to romance her.

You gave it to him
because he sought it out, Sir.
You gave him all he wanted
everything he’s after.

Past.
Made a decision.
Question.
In need of revision.

Collision.
Decision.
Then quick excision
from a story, that could have been.

All fault falls unto him.
The one that acted,
the one that sinned.

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