Our Debtors

Robin Chappell
Photo by Oleg Magni on Pexels.com

Tick-tock says the clock.

Darkness runs deep in this decrepit spot

Wooden boards creak with a sound so unique

Penetrating the silence surrounding my soul running deep

Now I could barely weep and accepted my fate

The time for excuses and understanding proved far too late

Fibers of thick rope cutting into my skin like a sin

The kind you make promises to God about never doing again

One that you can’t speak of; it’s just too much of a risk

So you bottle them up, wandering lonely roads with no end

Sometimes at bars full of speculation and gin

I loved flying on the wings of gambling with no luck

Poker games of fame; frequenting casinos just the same

Nothing was ever gained but trouble seemed to triple double

IOU’s leading to bloodied hands and dirty shoes

My vast dreams of riches became a boxed in view

The cause of feeling invincible; more than logically confused

I’d abused and exhausted all possibility of empathy

There was nothing further to be said as I lay there silently

Droplets of sweat running down my neck; loose dirt tossed on top of me

There was nothing I could see and it was fitting for the cause

Cheating the most dangerous man out of a poker game I crossed

And now it was my loss, the entire loss of my life

Survived by one four year old child and a loving wife

My own obituary in my head without any feelings of fear or dread

I decided to take my last breath like a man

I knew I was dealt the cards and how I played my hand

Praying my family understands my imperfections

My lack of self control and my loss of moral direction

The darkness in my soul that I could no longer hide

Dying all alone; paying my debt being buried alive


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