How Does It Feel To Be A Murderer?
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee
How does it feel to be a murderer
Do you not feel shame, guilt for what you've done
When you committed the act, did you do it in hate
Did you do it in anger... revenge to get even
To get even in a final way so, as never to deal with it again
How does it feel to see the body of your enemy lie on the floor
Each day, I watch your face on the news
Your expression is one of defiance, no remorse
No shame... no pain from snuffing out a life
How can you do that? How can you not be in tears
For killing someone's child, someone's husband, wife
Now, you disappoint... shame your own parents, spouse
Did it feel good to plunge the knife in deep for the last time
To shoot a bullet into someone's chest
To watch, listen to the last breath coming from their body
Did your heart not feel anything... did it not care at all
I believe when you deliberately murder someone
It should be an eye for an eye... a tooth for a tooth
You should get all you dish out to another person
Don't dish it out if you can't take it
Murder only... if you want to be murdered back
Note from this Author:
Whether anyone agrees with me... this is what I wonder each morning when I watch the news. I see new faces from the night before.... who have committed the horrible act of murder.
Their faces always have the same expression... one of not caring, chin up in the air... defiance, no sadness in their eyes. I look closely at each face... and wonder these things.
How can someone commit such a horrible act... and their faces not reflect such remorse... eyes have tears? How can they just stare out with no feelings in their face. Could you? I couldn't do something so bad to another human being... without my face reflecting it.
I wonder if they keep hearing cries, voices begging them not to hurt... kill them. I wonder if the cries, voices haunt them until they, themselves... die? I hope so... I hope it drives them crazy.
This is how I see murder... murderers on the news each morning. Every night, when it's dark... someone murders other people here, now. It didn't use to be that way... now, it's a way of life.... here. It saddens me... a lot. Our world keeps changing... more people, more murders.
I'm wondering if a lot of these people were born without a heart... feelings to care?
Colors As I Go
grief (32) only child (4) Scary (2) Boiled eggs (1) Distrust (1) Don't call me Faye (1) Dying (1) I hate to be called Faye (1) I'm afraid of the dark (1) Middle age woman (1) Pain that reaches the soul.. can't be seen (1) Running (1) Where did my youth go? (1) dying in a beautiful way (1) life is fragile (1) light on my path (1) my son (1)