Pummelo Arts: Hate, A Blunt Insturment

Broken glass, peeling paint, warped door frame. Memories as broken as this house.

Ancient marks on wall.

Terrible stains of hateful love.

I heard the shadow’s voice,

beneath the rickety wooden floor.

Deep and brutal,

The essence of Camel’s and cheap bourbon.

Tears stream down.

He was a blunt instrument, spiteful and callous.

His hands like bricks.

Dead now decades yet my hate and fear still burn,

I light a match.

I stood outside and watched the blue and orange swallow the wicked pine.

The smoke swelled and filled the sky freeing me.

Regret fled

*** On November 1st, The Pummelo will release its second e-book titled "Lost Frontiers & Forgotten Trains," a book of poetic verse by James, available on Amazon for your Kindle, Cloud Kindle, and Kindle app for iPhone & Android. ***