EDITORS NOTE: For the next couple Friday’s we’ll be celebrating Edgar Allen Poe’s 201st birthday on January 19th. Hopefully we’ll have something extra special for you on the 19th too! In the meantime, enjoy this dark poem from Stephen Carpenter.
The Hangman
One thing that I am still aghast,
is the sheer number of people that amassed.
To remark that in life I was miscast.
That day they came for a hanging.
I stood at the gallows slightly proud,
That the people shouted so very loud,
For the man who attracted such a crowd.
They all knew that I would be paying.
That day they came for a hanging.
Among the faces I saw people I knew;
family of the people that I terribly slew,
waiting for the justice that was long overdue.
for the crimes, and the pain, and the slaying.
That day they came for a hanging.
The hangman tightened the noose around my neck,
and pulled it twice to double check.
For any mistake would be a certain wreck
and ruin the day reserved for a hanging.
The blackened hood covered my sight.
I knew the time was finally right.
The hangman pulled the noose so tight.
The crowd was no longer dismaying
Because that day there was a hanging.
When I ceased to struggle they all cheered,
but now they have all disappeared.
Now I am something to be feared.
My body isn’t just for displaying.
Now every day there will be a hanging.
- Stephen Carpenter
