Man down

I have owed a dead man

A debt

For  25 years

My life, my children

He must have thought

Somewhere between

The last stop and

Brutal finis

People saw his agony

His body dragged like a broken doll

Even the final knife to the throat

A butcher’s blade

Never was

A question of pain

Either much or long?

No.

Question of when

He knew

No going back

Alive

In death’s sovereign country

Where the soul

Leaves the bone

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