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George Krokos Jan 2016
If we all tried and did something good each day
we would then help to keep so much evil at bay.
And in the world there would be a lot less crime
and so people would not have to do penalty time.

The same can be said about the telling of lies
that are deceptive which most people despise.
Because no one really likes to know they've been deceived
especially after being told something false that is believed.

This raises those related issues of virtue and vice
or conduct of what is or isn't regarded to be nice.
The laws of the state are to be followed as a guide
by all the people who are by them otherwise tried.

If found to have transgressed in a particular way
that did not conform to a specific law of the day.
There's usually someone about who sounds the alarm
when a member of society is suspected of doing harm.

And when the offender is apprehended and brought to trial
they have to plead their case before a judge without a smile.
If the evidence against them is too strong to acquit them of the charge
they'll have to pay the penalty imposed or forfeit their freedom at large.

This may be a fine to be paid or period spent confined behind bars
where the person convicted is placed and from society kept afar.
But if they're acquitted of the charge in court and allowed to go free
they'll be satisfied with the justice system which tried and let them be.

This is sometimes the situation regardless of the suspect being really guilty or innocent
and doesn't praise or say much of the law when the verdict handed down is too lenient.
That is why when worldly human justice falls short or doesn’t rightly prevail
what's known as Divine justice will eventually step in and recompense entail.
___________
Origimaly written in 2010
Poetic T Jan 2016
Seeing into oblivion:

She sits silent nervously looking at the clock,
As seconds move as if no time moves at all.
Pausing she breathes and her eyes flicker
Around the colorless  walls seeing strangers silent.

The window of her viewing lies empty awaiting
Its guest of only moments breath leaking away.
She looks at the contours of what will be *justice

In her eyes for what isolated her in these lonely thoughts.

She hears whispers of others speculation, trying
So hard not too hear the ideas of others. So not
To contaminate her thinking of what is about to
Happen, she sees a vision of him smiling then blinks.

A door stretches into the room as a figure greats
What will deplete his moments as they drip away.
He looks forward only seeing the looking glass, she
Watches him walk and a tear cascades downwards.

A short walk takes along time:

He had asked for so few things for his last meal,
Thoughts of what difference does it make when
He walks all will taste as silence. He recollects his
Awaking to what is about to happens and sighs.

"Come on  one  more drink,
"Ok then just*  one,

Those words haunt him now "One, how could
Such a small number bring so much to this
Conclusion of what he is. One man, one second
Then life changed, waking handcuffed to an ER bed.

Flashing imagery goes through like a scratched DVD
replaying that imagery over and over again. He shudders
At what had happened, moving then motionless screams
Then silence. Never seeing them, thinking it a lucid dream.

But here he sits chains adorn him, as his final walk is
Granted, the pastor prays with him. A tear falls where
Many have fallen numerous times before. He adds his
Legacy where others will sit and tears fall more.

Eyes stare but only  one  sees a reflection:

His legs tremble, but noting is seen, he composes
Himself in each step. One foot in front of another
So few are left. He sees himself, head shaven features
Withdrawn he pauses then lies shaking slightly more.

She sees him staring into his own observation of self,
He stares wondering of whom stares back then all
Is revealed as curtains are exhumed and those now
See each and their is a brief pause then silence.

A droplet steals  breath:

He sees her as he I restrained a tear of regret falls, she
Just stares and sees her husband now silent. She looks
Away and he just lingers in that moment, a final word
Is spoken a last request of consonance thought.

"I made one mistake, I cant take it back,
I am sorry for what one moment caused,
"I leave here with only regrets left in my place,

She sits silently as the life in that which lies before
Her ceases and she sits silently. She holds her hand
To her chest and grasps gently on to a ring. One that
Was taken from her, but now can finally in peace rest.
if any spelling mistakes or errors please message me as I worked quite ******* this.
Rylee Galloway Jul 2015
What if the biggest rush in life is taking your last breath
Having everything flow through you
And out
All your memories suddenly start to  play a movie on fast forward with people dancing across the projector of your mind
It must be a lovely sight
But then afterwords come
People all the sudden pretending to know you
Said they talked to you
They will dress up in pretty black laced dresses and the men will be wearing nice button down shirts with suits
It's a nice costume
there will be hundreds at your funeral
But you will only know a few
Funny how people start listing when your dead for many will speak about your jokes as if they found them interesting
Study them  for a underlying meaning
Missing the pun completely
Because once you have gone extinct
People start to see you as a specimen rather than a person  
And sometimes I am convinced it'll be easier
To greet death when you see everyone in your life slowly turn green
Including yourself
Reverist Aug 2014
The reaper's eyes were on her,
Yet she never bowed.
The reaper's ax chose her,
Yet she never soughed.

Death was finally in love,
With the girl he could never cow,
For she was something he could never have,
A girl with a skin too firm to swallow.

Why couldn't he touch the girl,.
The girl whose tears never fell,
The girl whose eyes are pearl,
The girl whose voice is a shim of bell?

Her secret wasn't a mystery,
She was too pure to be touched by maleficence.
The reaper desired her for her rarity,
But his hands burned at the touch of virtuousness.

Death chased her everyday,
In the hopes of taking her soul,
But  her soul was too far away,
Far away for him to hold.

The young maiden didn't even notice
The harvester at her tail.
She was too involved in lightness
For her to witness his veil.

The reaper's ax was rotting,
It was yearning blood,
Though who he was lusting,
Was nothing but an illusion set by god.

The girl was a mirage,
God's own penalty,
Towards the slayer,
That gave birth to misery.
Everytime someone helps me or offers me something
I build up feelings of guilt and obligation and
I feel ashamed by disappointing the ones
which were nice to me before.

But in reality there is no debt, no obligation at all.
There are only decisions, decisions if you want to be obligated.
Forced upon you by yourself and the principles
you want to stay true in your life.

Do I follow my love? Do I follow my belief?
It's you, who decides, nobody else.
As it is your choice, as it is your responsibility,
shaping up the life you will have,
shaping up the life you will show.
We often think we must responst to something given by giving something back or to act in a specific way because of the way we were treated before. We feel debted thus forcing something upon us. But you alone decide who you want to be, what you want to stand for and what you want your life to mean for others.

— The End —