six paces.
the length
of the rope
left me to hang
the remains of my
yellowed cinderblock walls
canvas for narration
of unhappy endings.
inset fluorescence
glared down; i
glowered up,
voiceless fists
on concrete bars
in subtly shouldered

they told me later
it was nothing, just…
justice, this:
a little
in a little
losing life
a little

at a time.

this poem also published @ Poets for Human Rights

3 thoughts on “time


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