My Writing Portfolio

You are reading reading through my collection of short stories and poetry. No portions of this content may be used or published elsewhere, in print or digitally, without without my express permission.

© I. A. Phillips

Dead Man Walking

The bars screeched open.

Everyone got in place for the send-off.

One of the escorts gave the announcement,

“Dead man walking!”

As they passed, we could see, he was happy.

Eyes pointed and crescent mouth,

He felt prepared for what was going to happen.

I was one of the lucky ones.

I sat in on the event.

When they strapped him down he turned to face our window,

He smiled like he knew something we didn’t.

But, this is the price he got for what he did.

As the executioner entered the room,

He laughed.

He laughed throughout the ordeal.

Once he stopped we thought it was over,

But it wasn’t.

Right before he passed he yelled out in anger and fright,

That “they’d” made a deal

That he was different.

They showed us the body afterwards.

The face was contorted,

Eyes rolled back,

Tongue loosely hanging.

One of the higher-ups checked the syringe,

It shouldn’t have been painful,

It shouldn’t have done that to him,

The drug is different.

I found it hard to focus on what he was saying,

For some reason, the whole place reeked of rotten eggs.

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