Red (Dark) Poem by Thomas Plotz

Who the hell am I

Investigating horror, and disgrace
With violence hanging in the air
Raising the dew point, in this place

Red walls dripping
Parts of people torn, and misplaced

Some call it work -

The stench, of rotting corpse's
Fly's mingle, over pools of Red
The remnants of mortal remains

The color of power
The color of live -

Here, just stillness, and disbelieve
From the terror, for now, is over for them

The pain remains, for the family's, friends, and
First responders who try, and
Make since of this seen

Trying to un-see, this new memory

Of RED

T. Plotz

Red(Dark)

NOV 19,2015