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vernon-waringPoems
Some victims end up in a ditch somewhere bullet holes in their heads Others are buried six-feet-deep in neglected pastures or end up drawing a last breath in a seedy motel room They become falling stars their brief bios featured on crime shows their sad tales filling the airwaves their names forgettable histories unremarkable victims whose renown emerges only from their sudden shocking demise They become fodder for the crime junkies... curious insomniacs watching docudramas - america's nightmares playing out on millions ot tv screens You can sense the sheer terror victims feel... their eyes flickering in the dark when someone's hands silence them their screams muffled by dissonant music swelling - a crescendo of shrieks and sounds building toward that awful final fade
0
Jun 27, 2016
Jun 27, 2016 at 5:29 PM UTC
Final Fade
Some victims end up in a ditch somewhere bullet holes in their heads Others are buried six-feet-deep in neglected pastures or end up drawing a last breath in a seedy motel room They become falling stars their brief bios featured on crime shows their sad tales filling the airwaves their names forgettable histories unremarkable victims whose renown emerges only from their sudden shocking demise They become fodder for the crime junkies... curious insomniacs watching docudramas - america's nightmares playing out on millions ot tv screens You can sense the sheer terror victims feel... their eyes flickering in the dark when someone's hands silence them their screams muffled by dissonant music swelling - a crescendo of shrieks and sounds building toward that awful final fade
Written by
vernon-waring
72/M
Jun 27, 2016
Jun 27, 2016 at 5:29 PM UTC
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