Amazing how their memory fades.
Leaving victims, in their hands
the bloodied blades.
Amazing how they forget their ills.
In the hands of the dead,
a bottle of pills.
Sitting red faced yet silent at the wake.
Lies a blue faced victim
of the life you did take.

In violence
you used your hands for years.
In desperation
they used their hands one time.

Is this how you imagined
you'd pay for your crime.

Poetry by Kaydee.