I have seen a lot of people post poems here. I thought that writing one myself might be a good way to work through some issues. I do like to write, but i have never written poetry. This is a ruff draft.


Nothing Happened


Bright summer mornings hold untold promises for the innocent child.
Birds chirp, unknowingly trumpeting the innocents lost.
Who could have foretold that playful morning would unleash a demon that danced and played among the children waiting for the right moment to strike?
Temptations of lands left yet unexplored echo in the childs ear, luring him away with the hellish minion in disguise.
As the other children played, one who was among them, had stepped upon a road whos end lay in gleeful destruction.
follow me child, the demon cooed.
There are more wonders deeper in the forest, further away from your friends
They descended into the forest together, alone.
Serene Landscapes inhabited by interesting creatures of all sorts offer a convenient distraction as they trek down the dark path that lay beneath their feet.
Chirping birds and playful squirrels gave way to brown devilish pigs and stagnant slime covered water.
The angelic mask that covered the demons soul crashed to the ground
His eyes alight with a fiery spark.
His face forever a blur.
His smile forever a sickening faade.
Hungry pigs bent on serving their master snorted gleefully with the promise of human child for lunch.
Fuel of please stoked the demons flame.
Wicked thoughts oozed out of its head to fill the pig pond with scum.
Dirty water, more filth than what the word water promises lay still and stagnant.
The surface holding back what its depths might tell.
Under the guiding hand of the demon, the child enters the water.
A congregation of pigs bare witness to the baptizing of the child.
Dead to innocents, and reborn in the knowledge of the dark deeds of men.
The child arose a submissive slave, one that the demon would mold.
On bent knees was the childs service forced from him.
Unknowing of the deed he committed while it was being done.
The fire in the demons eyes rose and flamed on.
His pleasure a dark reflection of the world.
His smile snaked across his face until the fiery eruption sated its villainous need.
The demons mask fell but never hit the ground.
It was placed in the back pocket of the older youth to be used again at another time.
A crooked finger points the way home.
The child runs.
Where fear, anger, and questions should reside only one voice was heard,
Nothing happened.
The road home was full of chirping birds and playful squirrels.
Nothing happened
Children played in the front lawn laughing and smiling because,
Nothing happened
Bright summer afternoons hold promises for the innocent child. If
Nothing happened
Nothing happened.