Blood...So Much Blood....

Florescent bulbs brightly shine on me, as I stand at the oaken lectern,
It is my turn,  
"My turn...  
My turn..." I quietly recite to myself,  
To give a public speech for which I have yet to prepare myself.  
A sea of expecting faces,  
A sea of unknown faces,  
And on top of it all, my head begins to itch,  
As the bugs fall, and crawl all over my paper which,  
Is full of words I did not write,  
In a language I can't even write!  
I stand before a court room which will decide my fate  
Based upon my speech, but in their eyes, I see only hate.  
I apparently had killed a woman out of jealous rage.  
Now, trapped in this cage of a stage,  
As the song "Summer Overture" begins to play,  
I hear the exasperation that comes with my delay.  
I am frozen in place, I cannot speak these words,  
I cannot even read these words!  
I involuntarily scratch my head,  
These bugs I shed,  
"Will they see them?" I dread,  
My head stings, fingernails filled with bug excrement, scabs, and blood,  
From my now un-scabbed scalp, I bleed out this flood of blood,  
And my heart suffers shock of the disapproving faces.  
In my consciousness, I begin having lapses,  
And hit the grayish brown, tweed, carpet with a "THUD!"  
Lying in a pool of blood,  
Blood...so much blood....  
I hear the bored audience, disapprovingly get up and walk out,  
I lay there, bleeding out...  
"Is this how I am to die?" I cry.  
Paper on the floor and pen, I see,  
Reach, and with the last of my energy,  
Scrawl the words "Tell Brad come to my funeral I love him"  
No punctuation, my sentence unended, my last moments dim.  
My ending...grim.  
I fold the paper and with a shaky hand, place it within my pocket,  
I don't want the blood all over it,  
So that they can still read it,  
So that he can still read it.  
I lie there, breathing becoming labored,  
My face no longer colored,  
And my saliva blood flavored.  
Help comes too late,  
I died during the wait,  
Who knew this would be my fate?