Running Rooftops
Running ‘cross the rooftops, chased by the
local cops, leaping over buildings with a
ninety foot drop.
Freedom keeping blood fired. Chasers
getting slow, tired. I can see the roof’s door
across the gravel top.
I go thru its open clear, racing down the
winding stair, jumping three and four steps
in descending flight.
Sweat pouring down my face, cops still giving
chase. Air is sweet on the street escaping
into night.
I race to the nearby park, in the dim made
of dark, down a lane, ‘cross a path where
the green is grass.
This should be my final caper. Odds against
me not in favor. If I fail, there is no bail and
that will be my last.
Then I hear a gun sounding. Pain hits my
chest pounding and I tumble, bleeding liquid
on the hardened floor
where I feel my life seeping, creeping from
my body leaking as I lay here, cold and
breathless, dead forevermore.
I can feel no heart beating. Memories of my
thinking fleeting back to when I did inflict my
crimes of hurt and pain
which is why I cannot languish here
compelled by awful anguish to atone for
moments my humanity went insane.
Death is now my waking bell. I repent my sins in Hell and pay the price each night to play its game that once again
keeps me running ‘cross the rooftops, being chased by armed cops and bleeding
'til eternity says my bleedings at an end.
HH
Running ‘cross the rooftops, chased by the
local cops, leaping over buildings with a
ninety foot drop.
Freedom keeping blood fired. Chasers
getting slow, tired. I can see the roof’s door
across the gravel top.
I go thru its open clear, racing down the
winding stair, jumping three and four steps
in descending flight.
Sweat pouring down my face, cops still giving
chase. Air is sweet on the street escaping
into night.
I race to the nearby park, in the dim made
of dark, down a lane, ‘cross a path where
the green is grass.
This should be my final caper. Odds against
me not in favor. If I fail, there is no bail and
that will be my last.
Then I hear a gun sounding. Pain hits my
chest pounding and I tumble, bleeding liquid
on the hardened floor
where I feel my life seeping, creeping from
my body leaking as I lay here, cold and
breathless, dead forevermore.
I can feel no heart beating. Memories of my
thinking fleeting back to when I did inflict my
crimes of hurt and pain
which is why I cannot languish here
compelled by awful anguish to atone for
moments my humanity went insane.
Death is now my waking bell. I repent my sins in Hell and pay the price each night to play its game that once again
keeps me running ‘cross the rooftops, being chased by armed cops and bleeding
'til eternity says my bleedings at an end.
HH
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