None of us are perfect. We make decisions that can twist our lives in ways we never predicted.

 

The things we do impact those around us, sometimes negatively. And we try to make amends to . . .

 

 

The People Wronged

 

It was yesterday.

No, maybe the day before.

I couldn’t remember—

my mind clouded

with memories of the past,

a past I’d been trying

to escape from

and change

the direction of my life.

 

I shouldn’t have done it,

but I couldn’t resist.

I shouldn’t have done it,

but hoped I wouldn’t get caught.

I never thought they’d be watching,

as I made my move.

But they were.

And there was no way

I could hide.

 

I tried,

as chills engulfed me.

I pulled the covers up

over my head.

Fear welled up

within me.

I dared not run,

fearing

the unknown.

 

Days flew by,

and I dreaded

what might be.

The wind blew

through my hair,

as I tried

to undo the undoable.

I had to.

Yes, I had to.

 

Living in a personal hell

was a death sentence

I couldn’t accept.

The alternative—

I didn’t have a clue.

I prayed

for forgiveness

I didn’t deserve

and wouldn’t receive.

 

Then a light

Illuminated the darkness

of a world

I didn’t know,

one of hope

and dreams,

one

offering me

a second chance.

 

But why? I thought.

Then a hand

motioned to me

to come,

and I did.

And there they were,

the people

I’d thought I’d lost,

the people I’d wronged.

 

I bowed before them

and muttered,

“I’m forever sorry

for what

I’ve put you through

and am ashamed

for what I’ve done.

Please

forgive me.”

 

The warden

pulled the lever

and gas

filled my lungs.

My mind clouded

with memories of the past,

a past that disappeared,

as I slipped

into a sea of darkness.

 

 

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