As he unearthed from the dirt, bones of a human skeleton,
While crouched under the trees in the middle of the night,
He questioned himself,
What had he done!?
Now this terrible dilemma,
To confess or to cover up—
The first would mean admitting to trespassing,
In the garden of a house he should not have been,
The second, replace the dirt,
Doing your best to leave it ‘undisturbed’,
It carries its own risk—
For what if this whole shambles was discovered now?
My fibers are everywhere,
There’d be no backing out,
Good luck to you… in explaining that!
I chose the second option,
I walked away,
(Innocent as I was after all),
‘All’ I’d done wrong was going there uninvited,
But of murder, concealment,
That was nothing to do with me;
Wrong place, wrong time,
I’d freely admit to that;
But still, it left me dirty,
Would not leave my mind,
Who had this person been?
How had they ended up there?
What was going on??
Forever I felt tarnished,
I’d witnessed something nasty,
I should have, could have honoured them,
Forgone my own pride,
This poor person, they’d had no chance,
Whatever had happened to them they had not deserved,
And their story— because of me,
Was being left untold.
This was actually a dream I had a couple of months ago, and it stuck in my mind because it was so emotionally-intensive! 😆
My dreams often expose me to distinct emotions that I’d never experience in real life (I hope!)— yet they feel utterly vivid and appropriate for these imaginary situations. The mixture of unease and guilt I felt in the dream was so distinct, and left me feeling a little disturbed when I woke up later! Just a little.