Poem: A Bad Man - Nassau, Bahamas

I’m a bad man;
well I have the “bad” part right.
But it’s no comfort because the handcuffs I adorn
seem so painfully tight.
I didn’t want to lose “face”;
I didn’t want anyone telling me what to do!
So I stabbed that “sucker” with a blade
and watched him collapse on my tennis shoe.
Then I ran with my “Boy” around the corner
until he was caught by a security guard.
I heard him scream
as he was tackled to the ground,
I heard him crying for me to help
as I jumped into the nearest yard.
I saw the police surrounding me;
I dropped to my knees when I saw the second gun.
I shouldn’t have used the knife on “that man”
but the cruel deed is done.
It happened so fast, I was so mad
and I didn’t want to be labeled as a “punk”
or a “sissy”!
In my haste I killed someone’s son
and maybe someone’s daddy.
Sadly, I’m going to have many years in jail
to ponder my plight.
I’m a bad man;
well I have the “bad” part right.

By Sean R. E. Munnings
The Raga-Lover

Copyright © 2007 Sean R. Munnings, all rights reserved.