Black Poetry : Running Rooftops

Harry Hyman

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Oct 31, 2003
551
72
North Carolina
Occupation
Salesman
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
 
Last edited:
Rich – No scribbler of words is more honored than when a created work takes a fellow scribbler’s breath away. I found myself out of breath several times writing and rewriting this piece too. It’s a rendition of actual events seen living in my youthful days in the Big Apple and here translated into the Hell of crime and punishment. Thanks Rich for the Wow and for stopping by for a rooftop run. HH
 
baller – So good to be in the sandbox again at the Destee playground where you can bring portraits in your blue pail and paint with your new crayons. The sandbox is where to go after swinging on the swings all day, sliding on the slide and rocking on the seesaw. So good to see you on the playground and thanks for stopping by to enjoy a thought-provoking built castle or two. Namyh
 

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