This poem is very different than most of the others I have written. This one feels very raw to me. 

Growing up, I had a great (ha) uncle who was a very sick man and sexually abused many young girls in our family and other neighborhood girls apparently. 

When he was finally confronted by the father of one of his victims, he took the coward's way out, or so the story goes.

So here's perfect example of me using my pen and paper as therapy.

GUILTY

A single tear was all I cried

When I heard the news today.

A guilty man was sentenced

And his life was taken away.

No judge had ever seen him, 

No jury heard his case,

No lawyers claimed his innocence

Just a mirror and a face…

His crime was seldom spoken of

Though his victims felt the pain

And suffered through life, struggling

With torn emotions of family shame.

No longer able to live inside

The monster he had become

He handed down his sentence

And then picked up a gun.

LR