Last Words

A Poem by Lindsaytot

Waiting, waiting.

The rough, ugly sweater

You promised your grandma you would wear

Scratches and bites with every nervous shift.

The combination of cheap wool and sweat

Makes your unpleasant time even more grim,

Not to mention

You are being accused of a crime you definitely didn’t commit.

You tap your clean fingertips on the wooden table,

The only object you can see that isn’t the color of snow.

It’s enough to drive a man to howl at the moon,

What with the fluorescent bulbs and faint coffee odor.

A man with beetle-black eyes struts in,

His mouth a thin line and his eyebrows reaching for the clouds.

“Son, your story doesn’t quite add up,” he accuses.

“I swear to God, i’m innocent, why would I kill her?”

“That’s what we wanna know.”

Hours pass, incriminating hours.

Your chest feels high and scraggly

As you piece together why they would

Think you would take an innocent girl’s life.

This can’t be right.

“This can’t be right,” you stammer.

“Evidence says otherwise,” the officer shrugs.

Like he knows anything.

Handcuffs. Headaches. Trial.

Misunderstandment. Order. Guilty.

The chair. Death.

Oh God.

You’ve never been a religious person,

But you pray that they’ll realize they made a mistake

And let you live.

Your Grandmother is disappointed.

She is your last phone call, and all she tells you is

“You’re just like your father. He was a bad egg, but I thought you fell far from the tree.

Sit up straight when they zap you,

And remember, I love you and I’ll see you soon.”

You suffocate the whole night before,

And so does the girl’s family.

Why you? You’re young and smart and you had dreams and potential,

But you got tangled in a net of miscommunication.

“Any last words?” a woman asks.

You straighten your back and lift your chin.

Although you are furious it had to end this way, you try to end it with dignity.

“I wore your sweater Grandma, now let’s rock and roll.”

You start to feel peaceful even before death grips you,

As you think of your father teaching you how to play poker

And your first slapdash kiss behind the bleachers

And the love you feel with your friends and family.

You smile as your vision fades to black.

© 2018 Lindsaytot

Author's Note

I haven't put anything here for a long time! Well, please review, it will be appreciated!!

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TwistedTwins

First of all I have to say that I loved this poem simply because it doesn't read like a poem. Yes, in some instances it does but for the most part it reads like a short story - which I appreciate. The only thing that confused me about this is that they lead this guy away to his death in regular clothes (Que his grandmother's gifted sweater), so it made me question the who/what/when/where and why of it all. But other than that, I enjoyed this piece and hope you continue to post. Until then, happy writing!!