It

From the day it came to be,

life was traded, given free,

knew it not – what is me?

Spared no joy or warmth or mirth.

Given up as skin and bone,

born to walk the world alone,

empty soul and heart of stone.

Spared no time or date of birth.

 

Wander freely through the air,

caught too soon, beaten bare,

now a blank and empty stare.

Spared no love or counterpart.

Sold as ragged human waste,

cut off from cherub and the chaste,

torture, dread, abandon, faced.

Spared no food and torn apart.

 

Draw each breath with tear and pain,

death fleed once and time again,

left to rot and bare the strain.

Spared no years of love nor light.

Dread the day and dread this life,

contemplate the sharpened knife,

feed it on decay and strife.

Spared no beauty for its sight.

 

No forgiveness does it know,

watches how the fears grow,

blood now dripping, oozing slow,

Spared no pity, none to show.

Takes the ones that love has found,

from street or step or sleeping sound,

past the grave and hallowed ground.

Spared no life and lets it go.

 

Empty cavern neath the soil,

silent death and ended toil,

displaying proud its gruesome spoil.

Spared no priest and spared no grave.

Desperate searchers in the gloom,

in the darkness, eyes that loom,

mangled corpses found their tomb.

Spared no mercy, none it gave.

 

This is loosely based on the character “Pennywise” from the Stephen King novel/film “It”. Hope he doesn’t mind ?

2 thoughts on “It”

  1. This is amazing! I didn’t saw the movie, but I read about it, you expressed so much emotion, pain, loneliness, so beautifully…I “saw” the character (Pennywise) through your words, but I also saw your impressive sensibility and talent. May your heart be cradle in love always! ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

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