Blood on the ground,
A dagger in my hands

I kneel in shame
At the fault
Placed on my name

Quietly,
I accept the blame

A scapegoat,
A sacrificial lamb

For a crime,
Committed by a different
Set of hands

Hands I owe,
Men that once granted me
My success and fame

Men I will repay,
Regardless of the pain
And despite their gains

Even while they ask me
Just because
I’m not the same

Simply because
I don’t share their name.

Though raised by them,
I finally realize
That I’ll never be
A true part of them.

Sadly,
I let myself get framed

A last gift
For the support
That they had once granted
To my different name

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This poem was inspired by a writing prompt from the “Microcosm” Publication.

pick your favourite or least hated song from either of … genres [Psychedelic Rock or Classical] and write a story that it inspires.

Song of Choice: Bach’s Air by Nemanja Radulović & Double Sens