Thread: As I Sit (Poem)

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As I sit and think of the crimes I have committed
Could it be that I thought I was a man
And wasn't afraid to admit it?
As I sit and try to keep those crimes inside
I can't help but remember the ones that died.
And as I watched their bodies begin to fold
And their eyes begin to roll,
I tried to stop and look at their souls.
But now I feel myself being pulled
As their bodies are ever so cold.
As I sit I thought I heard them say
To do it in such a violent way
You must have had no fear
Because you never shed a tear.
And as I sit I try to think what's going on inside,
What gave me so much pride?
Yet, It is something I can't explain,
Something so evil it makes me think I'm insane.
Deep down inside lies another person with another name
And when he comes out I'm not the same.
But for now he feels afar
As I sit behind these bars.

So....you're a serial killer?
LOL!

One never knows until it's too late .

I know two other poems that begin with the line"Here I sit", I was kind of disappointed when it wasn't one of them.
Of course "Here I sit,
Broken hearted,
Paid to ----,
only ------.
(Yes it's bathroom humor)
then the other one is from World War Two"Here I sit
With my shirt tails in my ----
All for balling up her little ball of yarn,
...so it goes abit pornograph a lament from a soon to be unexpected Father, incarcerated for his participation in the deed.
Of course such things probably never happened in England during the war.....