Posted in Sideshows, Words 'n' such Poetry

Forensic Feelings

The mourners numbered four.

Three boys …a woman, slight.

Silent was their vigil,

One stranger passed tonight.

The wife’s shoulders straightened

Walked away,  empowered mind.

The arguments now over

Peace, the new divine.

He won’t be found in heaven.

Hell’s tavern he will roam

No more fear, my darlings

He won’t be coming home.

The local pub is crowded

They’ve come from far and wide,

One Good ‘Ole Boy they’ll sorely miss

So many tears are cried.

A ruckus is arisin’

His buddies raise their glass

Beloved memories overheard

‘Bout how he’d saved their ass.

“Let’s take up a collection.”

Those barroom voices plan,

“We must erect a statue for

One mountain of a man.”

One man, two stories told.

Forensic feelings, black and gold…


For Jingle Potluck:

Beaches and Mountains



I love a well told story. If it makes me laugh, all the better.

6 thoughts on “Forensic Feelings

  1. This really is illuminating, to give the perspective of those who’s lives were touched by a abusive drunk. It would certainly be a good thing, if those who thought this person was a great guy, could comprehend how he affected the lives of those he was supposed to love.
    Actually, one of my sons-in-law came from such a family, and it took him a while to learn how different other people live, and show love to those close to them. He really is a kind and loving husband and father, as well as a good provider.

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