Deception Dealing with deception The One: As the dark figures enlarge through the thick fog,/ He walks towards them,/ Alone and sheltered overhead. / Slowly paced, and soggy footed, he arrives./ He is unable to speak or think straight./ As he slowly lowers his head something catches his eye./ He peacefully stares;/ Stares at the beautiful flowers./ The flowers he and his wife planted along their fence./ He could still remember the aching pain of his sore, /middle aged back,/ The smell of his wifes worn out, one-size-too-small /gloves as he took them off for her,/ And watching the huge red sunset as they held each /other in their aching arms./ They made love that night./ From that day on he knew she was the one./ That was a beautiful day, he thought./ A loud morn awakens him from his daydream./ He forgets where he is for a while, but soon remembers./ He still cannot believe what is happening. / To him it seems unreal./ Still with his head down, he is afraid;/ Afraid to look,/ Afraid of what he might see./ Confused, he begins to wonder./ He searches for an answer. / He had not accomplished what he had planned./ As the man with the white collar speaks, he looks up./ Still somewhat sceptical of the spectacle,/ He is afraid;/ Afraid to listen./ He is afraid of what he might hear./ Still with his confidence, he awaits;/ Awaits for the name of inevitability./ Out it comes./ A name which he remembers to have known his whole life./ A name which he cared so much for./ A name which he stood by, through thick and thin./ A name which he called his own./ He wants to feel sad but is curious./ He wonders who cared./ He looks up,/ All in black,/ Except for the one in red./ tIGHT aSS: Fender, was its name./ Guitar strings, was its game./ You know the ones in the black pack?/ Ill get them when I get back./ All I needed was the last string/ So I can play and I can sing./ Yes, yes she said/ Im going out. Ill buy this thing./ Monday night she went out/ She had to go that way too!/ She came back early,/ With a pack of blue./ Bring then back!/ tHE oLD mAN wHO sCARED mE wHEN i wAS lITTLE I went outside to play that day, / With my mom by my side, by the way./ I slid down slides and played on swings;/ Every time, I played with those things./ On a bench to my right/ I saw a man, old but bright./ He had skin that seemed like brown construction paper,/ And hair as white as snow./ He had these dreamy eyes;/ But why, Id like to know./ He seemed so helpless wearing that old man hat,/ And that red flannel shirt that made him look fat./ I wondered what he was doing there./ I wondered what was going through his mind/ When I got a water gun,/ And wet him from behind. / Before my very eyes/ He got up and said/ Grandson. / Youre dead!/ He then chased me around,/ Like a fun little fray./ Slowly gaining on me like a tiger on its prey./ I could stand no more so I had to say, / Okay, okay!/ We stopped running and turned to each other./ Red now replaced his brown paper face./ With sweat pouring down his cheek he said to me,/ In a race, you would win first place!/ Bibliography My brain Poetry Essays.