“My shoe/your foot”

Cold case (4) “My shoe/your foot”

What would you do, if the shoe I wore?

Was on your foot and you existed, no more.

The pain I felt, as I lay on this barren cold floor,

No longer in this life, to walk the coastal shore,

The agony encountered, the apathy impassively I store.

A mystery my death keeps secret, to the core,

A mystery brought to life as I pass this door.

Death before honor seems such an easy chore,

To you a valiant achievement but my heart you tore.

You entered my life a lamb, as lion you left, with a roar,

Your weapon struck with ferocity, as blood commence to pour

This death, to them a mystery but wait until once, they explore,

No longer, will you claim protection, once word began to sore.

Another waken day of the sun, though my body obeys no rays,

I’ve been here, over countless hours, so now, I count the days.

An accident, is what they have deemed this but truth to be, will unfold,

By the time we’ve reached this ending, my story, will have finally been told.

My day began on a Monday, first day of the week and simply, quite cold,

I found myself, lost in thought, not knowing, what this day, will truly bestow.

A knock at the door, as I shuffled across the floor, my hair lack of doting and disarray.

Once more, air stood still, as he again, did suddenly, slowly, quietly knock,

Without haste, I respond, to the echo of before, while looking at the clock.

An emergency is at hand, render assistance, if you can, I heard a voice once say.

Upon reaching the door, the suspense, was quite a chore, to contain and wait the inquirance,

I stumbled, nearly fell, as the clock struck (7:12), a time, with no new significance and /or means.

With a spin of the door knob, popped in, my new neighbor “Rob, “who uncannily, looks a lot like me,

His strikes, were as precise and swift and neither one, had I, nor were they ever to have been seen.

As I lay bleeding, from my wounds, the room began engulf me, way too soon, the blow that claimed me, was one first to the heart,

Nothing personal, just a game that I play, when my mouse, has gone astray and I find you, with time now, at me you gaze.

This wasn’t no fluke, I followed you puke, as you left my house and wife, “now you question your art”, as “I play my part”.

We reap, what we sow and many times, I’ve been told, this thing i do, will soon leaving me wishing, for a revisited life, of my, better dayz.

Though now caught up, in this game, my life I lost, just ain’t the same, and change it, if only you knew, many times, I’d wish I’d could,

And to live, another day, as this takes my breath away, will be a blessing, although sometimes, I answer this question, I don’t think I should.

If I, was a good man, with no wrong, my life would have stayed, in my own home and my secret lover, (your woman), would still be, alone,

There’s a story to have been told, life’s long lessons, are quite cold and if not learned, you like me, can be knocked, from your pearly throne.

Instead I lay soaked, in my own blood, nearly impelled in a face thrown mud, a sin by all counts, but I guess to him, well long, overdue,

I knew there’d come a day, possibilities are endless, when the games, cats play, are without restrictions, yet time surely, catches up to you.

But the shoe I chose, assist my life story to be closed (and worth), was one I should have waited, I didn’t slip and fall, nor hit the table or slip on a log,

Though the poker, you placed so smooth, one stole, from another room, left life apprehensively layered in doom, and I felt, what it was like, for the cat to have chased the mice, in lieu of the dog.......

                                                 Jim 

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