Tuesday, January 13, 2015

The Demise of a Transcript


My physical appearance is as simple as black and white.  What you see is who you’ve become.

I am a record that sets the tone for the rest of someone’s life, because whether they like it or not; I am their life.  It is me who decides whether they live or die.

My internal organs are the embodiment of the lies told by courtroom thespians, which periodically makes me a lifesaver when these flaws are discovered before the 11th hour. 

But where’s the fun in that?  I really enjoy being the decisive lie.  At times the pulse within my paragraphs enhance the sting of family secrets or failed relationships.

My retaliation to, No Justice! No Peace! Is inconspicuous compared to the fires burning in Ferguson, or an unoccupied cop cruiser being capsized by justice seekers. 

My sentences have stared into the eyes of the mightiest of men.  The tears I draw from their souls makes my print worthy of bestseller status. 

But there was something different – something oh so rare – on the last day I looked into the eyes of Willie Ervin Fisher.

You see, normally my appetite for disheartenment is satiated by the lack of a will to live.  Men will spend decades dissecting my words to no avail.  The realization of their fate is the unending feast to which I am always receptive. 

But there was hope in Fisher’s gape.  As he ripped me to shreds he looked as if what I had to say would not be the final word.  I could see his hopes for shedding the red jumpsuit for a medium custody placement.

I felt powerless as the weight of my existence decreased as he tore away at my deadly punctuations.  The sound of my dismantling drew the attention of his comrades, emotional supporters.

The truths behind their pupils stirred the exclamation within my remaining pages, then my power is restored.

I laughed as he attempted to console them.  His emotional supporters knew very well that my demise was the sound of his expiration. 

The pause for a pound and some kind words gave me time to decide which set of watery eyes would be my next “vic.”

Everyday I will be the replay of a man’s final judgment.

It’s just him and me behind the closed door, and a condemned man has no say; only my words count.

No one knows more than the transcript.

Still Livin’

MannofStat
Copyright © 2014 by Leroy Elwood Mann

No comments:

Post a Comment