Sunday, July 10, 2011


My phone says ding-a-ling-a

I stare, my heart, it skips a beat

In its frantic tarantella

I wonder what my captor

The reason for my hearts erratic rhythm

Will ask me to do now

Shall I answer?

What will I do? Lie? Act Normally?

What will he decide after the brief ponder?

He gestures with his armed hand.

Oh, terrifying firearm!

for me to stand.

I scramble to my feet

So I shall pick up

I walk with heavy feet

As I reach with my hand, I realize

One word, one frightened breath on the receiver

It will bring my certain demise.

This thought caused the plastic handle

To weigh a million pounds

My lips feel like wax from a candle.

How can I speak,

when I can’t taken in a breath of life?

Will my life be taken by this creep?

The worst was I could have done more,

To prevent this end

Why didn’t I lock the damned door!?

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