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Sep 2015
The blade was so sharp,
That it cut without pain.
Did anyone notice?
Do I have to explain?
Will my voice cry forever?
Or forever be still - as
I join my lost comrades
On the top of the Hill.

They laughed with me, at me,
And behind my back
All the while my morals
Were under attack,
I, the unfaithful,
Became my own jury
That’s when the laughter
Became full-blown fury.

There were many others
As guilty as me
Why are they still laughing?
Why can’t they see?
Why will no one judge them?
My ears ring with pain
I became judge and jury
For I could never explain.
pwl August 2015
Spoon River Anthology knockoff.........
Phil Lindsey
Written by
Phil Lindsey  Dundee Illinois
(Dundee Illinois)   
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