~~~

Last summer thoughts still chill my bones,
Some things are best just left alone.
Like when we buried John Simone,
A boy we preyed upon with stones.

We didn’t mean to make him fall,
Just scare him for a bit- that’s all.
Unlucky shot with rock quite small,
Struck Johnny’s head- that tree was tall.

We took our prank beyond what’s fun,
As John twitched once beneath cruel sun.
His lifeless eyes, aimed like a gun,
Condemned us all for what we’d done.

Quite desperate to save our skins,
We buried John, but not our sins,
And vowed to never speak again,
Of that dark day kept locked within.

For months we lived enslaved by fear,
And wondered if our crime would clear.
But no one found the grave that year-
Yet something from the dark drew near.

Was late one night I heard the knock
Upon my door at three o’clock.
An eerie voice began to mock,
“Come out, come out, I’ve brought your rock!”

~~~