Penance

Wrongs are constantly rubbed into a criminal`s face.
The sound of a faucet, the onyx dust stings like mace.

Washed away with liquid fire,
Burning and scaring in the mire.

Exasperated, two worn soles;
No emotion in the socket holes.

Except, loneliness and barren regret;
Every memory, wishing to forget.

Perceived by all as arrogant, and naive;
Wishing his mortal essence will leave.

Unforgivable, misunderstood, misrepresented;
Each purposed crime, doubles, not relented.

Thoughts trickle, then race; through his mind.
Haven`t all committed a crime of some kind?

As if criminal spends every day, maliciously attempting,
To conjure ideas to drive the citizen into retreating.
Like the grim, taunts, anger, abuse, jeers and shit falling
Into the drain, so too the criminal feels hope depleting.

Composed By: Andrew Drucker