Friday, September 19, 2014
The Jailer Comments
Rating: ★4.5
My night sweats grease his breakfast plate.
The same placard of blue fog is wheeled into position
With the same trees and headstones.
Is that all he can come up with,
The rattler of keys?
...
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7/21/2025 1:13:11 AM # 1.0.0
Only by empathy can this poem be truly understood...but he did, did, did, do without her...he went away, she had her life. In the end, he was punished for the wrongful deeds done to her, haunted until his death and criticized for his actions. But you see, the most important part is...he went away.